


Emrys Without Magic?

by wisepuma23



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Morgana, BAMF Freya, BAMF Merlin, Gen, Magic Revealed, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon, Old Gods, Sassy, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisepuma23/pseuds/wisepuma23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana gets the <i>brilliant</i> idea to dampen Emrys' magic to the point of nonexistence with super powerful magical shackles! </p><p>She was expecting a slow and painful death, but Merlin was never one to obey assumptions.</p><p>That's when everything got shot to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana's plan goes smoothly after she captures Arthur's patrol much to Merlin's annoyance. However, things take a dark turn when the final slot of her plan falls into place.

     Merlin groaned, of course, Morgana and her goons would capture Arthur’s patrol unawares. He had a feeling that today wasn’t a good day, and Arthur just brushed it off. 

     Now? 

     The Round Table Knights were all tied up in one place in the clearing, but Merlin was dragged a bit closer to Morgana’s side. So he couldn’t conveniently escape or do the usual magical help from the background. No, he was sitting out in the open. To make things worse, the Knights had the cool shade of the trees above them since they had to be situated in front of Morgana in order to see her usual dramatic monologues. 

     Oh right, Morgana was saying something, he should pay attention now.

     “....But we’re not gathered here today to talk about me, but Merlin here.” Morgana said with a sickly sweet voice, as she gestured to the tied manservant next to her feet.

     Oh, this can’t be good.

     “Merlin?” Arthur said in disbelief, and all of the other Knights shared the same look of incredulity save for Lancelot. 

     Lancelot was looking rather pale actually.

     Merlin didn’t feel so great either.

     “What do you want?” Merlin said wearily, he’s been tortured by Morgana a few times over the years, perhaps for the first time she would do it publicly. 

     He should’ve drank more from his waterskin when he got the chance, screaming himself hoarse probably wasn’t good for his throat in the long run.

     “A little birdie told me,” Morgana smiled but it darkened as she pulled him closer by the throat, “That _you’re_ my doom.”

     Okay, this was getting less good by the minute.

     Merlin’s eyes narrowed as he realized what she was implying, no doubt that she had tortured it out of Alator or an unfortunate druid. If Morgana _knew_ , then there was no point in donning his foolish mask. However, he would have to be careful, the Knights were watching and maybe he could weasel out of this with his secret intact.

     “Morgana.” he said coldly as his magic boiled beneath the surface, only barely refraining from doing drastic. Like breaking her wrist, so she could stop choking him.

     “Emrys.” Morgana breathed quietly, and he could tell that she could finally see him for the first time. Her grip on his throat tightened both in anger and fright. Merlin winced, both from the chokehold and the use of his Druidic name.

     “Emrys?” Arthur said in curiousity, “Emrys? His name isn’t Emrys, it’s Merlin.”

     Merlin so wished that Arthur would stop repeating his name, it was gonna give him a heart attack from the sheer fear. The chances of getting out with his secret intact was getting slimmer now.

     “Well, Emrys.” Morgana gave an amused laugh, “I shall make you suffer for your traitorous actions against our kind, and your betrayal. It’s only what you deserve.”

     Merlin glanced down at the simple ropes, he could just simply snap them with a word. Morgana saw his quick action, and her grin only grew bigger as she realized he was hesitating because of their audience.

     “Restrain him, make sure his wrists and feet are about a foot apart.” Morgana commanded to her men, an icy dangerous tone creeping into it.

     Morgana stopped choking him and Merlin took in large and heaving breaths, his momentary lapse of compliance was all the men needed to hold him without struggle.

     “Hey!” Gwaine shouted, “What are you doing? Let him go, if you don’t, I swear I’ll kill you!” Gwaine struggled against his bounds but to no avail. Morgana swept off Gwaine’s threats, and she ignored the following yells and pleadings for Merlin’s safety from the other Round Table Knights. She instead walked to her horse and took out four identical manacles, casted of dark iron and with etched runes both inside and outside. None of them were connected with chains or anything of the sort, it was just the band.

     She walked back to her stage at the center of the clearing, and presented the circlets for everyone to see. Arthur’s face turned stony as he recognized the marks of the Old Religion lining it, no doubt it would be used for a nefarious purpose. Merlin gulped as her plan became clearer in his mind.

     Definitely not good.

     At all.

     “These manacles subdue magic to the point of nonexistence.” Morgana said plainly, “But unlike other magic dampening shackles, they are so powerful that they can even torture non-magical individuals.”

     “What?” Arthur said in confusion, “I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

     “Course not.” Morgana sniffed, “Your ignorance of everything to do with magic only proves that. If you learned even of a smidgen of it, you would know that magic courses through everything and everyone.” 

     “Morgana, don’t do this.” Merlin warned as she took a step toward the group of glaring Knights.

     “Allow me to demonstrate, dear brother.” Morgana said gleefully as she took Percival’s wrist, freezing the man with a few murmured words. She then took one of the four manacles and clicked it carefully around his wrist and snapped it shut. 

     “No!” Arthur said distraught as he saw Percival immediately paling and breathed harsher as if he ran laps around the castle _hundreds_ of times. It was only a few moments later that when Morgana saw a trickle of blood seep from Percival’s nose that she took off the sole manacle. Immediately Percival recovered and his breath calmed down.

     “Perry, right?” Morgana said condescendingly, “Just repeat after me, and it’ll only prove to my brother that you don’t have a lick of magic, and how dangerous these are.” 

     Percival blinked and warily nodded, being insinuated as a sorcerer would never forbade well in Arthur’s kingdom. 

     “Forbeane.” Morgana commanded with gold eyes, and a flame appeared in her palm. Percival repeated, but nothing happened. Morgana’s satisfied smirk grew and sauntered back to her place next to Merlin, and she was downright beaming when Merlin flinched back from the nearness of such cruel things.

     “Now, manacles on sorcerers have completely different reactions. It would drive them beyond the brink of insanity; but depending on how much magic they have, it would take them longer or shorter. Rumors are that all four manacles were used on rogue High Priestesses centuries ago. They died by their own hand within a day. Without exceptions.” Morgana explained as she stared directly at Merlin, and he felt his skin crawl since it was likely that she knew that he was a High Priest himself. 

     It only sunk in what the implications were, the great Emrys without magic? 

     Merlin laughed, a nervous and almost deadly one.

     “What’s so funny, pray tell?” Morgana sneered as she stood over him threateningly, and Merlin just felt so _tired_.

     “Emrys without magic.” Merlin gave a wide fake smile, “Like the Earth without the ground, the sky without air, the sun without light. It’s just not…….possible.” 

     Morgana frowned as she thought about it, “With these, anything is possible. And all men must die, even you Emrys.” Her frown cleared into a crazed grin, “You would die slowly and painfully, and perhaps in your insanity you would kill your friends and family with your own bare hands. It would be icing on the cake! Perhaps you wouldn’t even last a day, or even the night.”

     Merlin spat on her face, since he already what was going to happen to him once those manacles get on him. If his time was running out, then it was worth it.

     His head snapped back with the hard immediate slap from Morgana, she was fuming at the lack of respect from him. 

     “Untie him.” Morgana commanded the other men who were not holding Merlin or guarding the Knights, “I need three other sorcerers to help me.”

     Merlin wished that he was glad that he was free from the rope, but it was more like jumping from the pot and into the fire.

     His magic rolled like an angry sea just neath his skin, ready to kill the men holding him and his friends in the span of a blink. Merlin shook his head as he saw the Knights tense as if ready to pitch a last ditch effort to help him. It would not work. Merlin would be the only causality today in the best case scenario if he didn’t manage to escape the manacles. His magic begged to be let free, but Merlin knew it wasn’t the right time. Merlin would most definitely kill Arthur in his later insane state if the king didn’t accept him. 

     “Stop this Morgana!” Arthur said desperately as he realized that the requirement of three men to help her meant that Morgana was gonna put all four of them on his friend at the same time. If strong Percival looked like he was dying from the use of just _one_ , how could skinny as a twig Merlin survive all four? His fellow Knights had similar looks of despair, and some were resigned to see him suffer since they were powerless to help.

     “No.” Everyone startled as they realized the steely voice came from Merlin.

     “What?” Morgana said stupefied, all manacles were in place, just waiting to be clicked closed by her and her men at all at the same time. She could see the effects of even having the manacles open on Emrys’ wrists were already causing him to look pale, but his eyes were amused and fierce all the same.

     “Go ahead, Morgana.” Merlin dared, “Do it.”

     “Ready?” Morgana said as she looked at her paid goons, “When I say go. We must click the shackles shut at the same time for the -ah- full effect, we wouldn’t want to have our guest miss out on the fun, would we?”

     Her goons nodded, and even the ones holding Merlin still looked interested in what was going to happen.

     “But I’m going to warn you, when I come back.” Emrys said coldly, eyes hard as if what he said was pure fact, “I’m going to be _pissed_.”

     Morgana’s eyes narrowed as she tightened her grip on her manacle on his left wrist, he was simply bluffing. What was the worst could happen? She was a High Priestess of the Old Religion, and one of her favorite childhood stories was the one with David and Goliath. And everyone knew how that story ended. Emrys’ would be the same, he was still a man.

     “Go.” she commanded and the clicks of all four manacles echoed as one through the clearing. 

     Everyone stepped back to see how Emrys would react, even Morgana leaned back. The goons holding him even let him go. She always made sure her dear brother could see what was happening to his precious manservant, so she angled her body so he could see. Arthur and his Knights would also suffer at seeing their friend’s irreversible insanity. Sorrow for a sorrow, only fair.

     Morgana was the closest to Merlin, and she was the first to see that something was wrong. Merlin was stock still, and time just slowed alarmingly down in her mind like it did before something terrible happened or is happening. The first thing she noticed was his eyes. 

     His eyes just went……..dull.

     And as quick it came, time snapped back to normal. The next thing she registered was the slow lean to the right, and the muffled thud of his body was all could be heard in the forest. Then, Morgana realized a very unsettling question, when had the forest gone silent? It slowly dawned on everyone that the body was dead, the fish eyes, the unnatural stillness, and muscles lax as if all tension just up and left only proved that.

     No one dared to say a word, and even Morgana was shell shocked at how effective her plan was. It seemed even breathing loudly was frightening as everyone processed what happened.

     Her mind worked at neck-breaking speeds, and one question came to the forefront of the mind that made her become numb with choking fear. If the amount of magic, determined how long a person would descend into insanity, then what did that say about Emrys? The highest amounts of magic recorded were the High Priestesses and Priests of Old in the peak of the Old Religion, and the full use of the manacles on them made them go insane within a day when usually others took a month or even a year. Emrys was lucky, or unlucky depending on where you’re standing, since that he was _so_ powerful that he just up and died. Whatever insanity he experienced was only for a fraction of a second or practically nonexistent. Morgana was suddenly very glad that Emrys was dead, because she now understood that she would never survive in a fair fight with him.

     A roar could be heard in the far distance, wrathful was the only thing that could describe it. Morgana knew that everyone felt a chill go down their spine, even hers included. It sounded horribly familiar, she was sure that she heard echoes of it in her dreams. 

     Another roar came from another direction, and the distinct sounds of earth and trees being broken could be heard, even all the way here. It was different than the other one, it was more ancient and powerful. And equally furious, if not more so. 

     Suddenly the air was full of deafening roars from all directions, and more sounds of the earth being pounded, and she realized with a horror that it was as if something was coming _from_ the ground. Not on top of it. The sky darkened and rolled with lightening and it poured rain in bucketfuls. Everyone gasped as they saw gaping maws and fearsome figures illuminated in the shadows whenever the sky lit up with each lightning strike. The clouds also transformed into the shape of tortured indistinct faces in mid-scream before rolling back into dark sky. 

     Everyone’s attention was distracted from the disturbing sky when they saw a large orange glow in the north, the wrong place for a sunset. Then the screams finally reached them, and to Morgana’s shock, it was where her castle full of her hired men and herself lived. Her breath was punched out of her as the glow moved, and it was the shape of a giant hellish dog. 

     “I-I can’t do magic!” one of her men exclaimed frightened, and kept muttering _forbeane_ over and over. Morgan shakily stood to her feet, and she walked to him, Tim or something, and shook him harshly and slapped him.

     “Don’t be foolish!” Morgana admonished, “Look you’re just scared, see? Forbeane.” She held out her palm to demonstrate, but her palm remained fire free. She muttered it again, more forcefully this time. But it was to no avail. It took everything in her to not stumble back to the forest floor. Her magic was gone. How did she not notice? 

     Her unease only increased as she realized that she first felt the cold emptiness within in her at the same moment those manacles clicked. No, it isn’t possible. It shouldn’t be! Her magic had just disappeared, gone in a quiet whisper as if it didn’t make up half of her soul. 

     However, her worldly senses were not yet gone, and she threw her net far and wide all over Albion to see if the same thing was happening everywhere or it was just some strange aftereffects of Emrys’ death.

     “It’s all gone.” Morgana said terrified, “Magic is gone from the land.”

     “No!” several of her men with magic cried out, and practically shouted their spells in futility. Morgana changed her assessment of her worldly senses from earlier, now that she examined it more closely, it was fading as well with each moment. The earth felt colder and colder beneath her feet, the constant life blood that pumped all throughout the world was trickling to a stop. She desperately threw her senses in the general aim at the source of the earlier roars, and her hands shook as she took out a knife from her belt as her senses came back with its report. She turned toward the Knights still tied up at the edge of the clearing, their faces hidden in the shade.

     “The Old Ones have awaken from their slumber. Beasts older than man have woken up, that are wiser than dragons and much more deadly.” Morgana’s voice trembled as the last of her gifted senses left her, “The Old Ones are angry, angry beyond all belief.”

     A roar shook the air, and the harsh scrapes of stone against stone could be heard somewhere to the left of them. Everyone turned their sights, and a large shadowed figure could be seen in the almost darkness. Whatever it was, it carried a portion of uprooted forest that looked like grown from its back, and it's glowing green eyes were unsettling even from many leagues away. 

     “My point exactly.” Morgana said quietly, and her comment seemed to break the trance of her frightened men. They fled in all directions, screaming something about the end of days. And other things about how the world was ending or they were all going to hell.

     Well, they weren’t _wrong_.

     “I don’t understand.” Arthur said in a tone reminiscent of a young child at a loss on how to deal with concepts way above their limited understanding. 

     Another explosion reverberated in the far distance, a little closer than the others. 

     “Your Merlin is Emrys!” Morgana screeched, “The most powerful warlock to walk the Earth, he has more power than all before _and_ after him.”

     “He…..he isn’t.” Arthur said brokenly, and normally Morgana would be absolutely delighted at the sheer pain in her brother’s voice, but bigger fish and all that.

     “You were always blind and thick, brother.” Morgana paused and then said honestly, “So am I.”

    Arthur stared at her in incredulity, he knew his sister well enough that she would never admit to any faults of her own. Morgana was darkly amused, the world was ending after all.

     “Must be a Pendragon thing.” Morgana said in deadpan as she finally closed the distance between her and her brother. She lifted her dagger and she could feel the glares coming from the other Knights in warning. Arthur looked at her too, not one of wariness, but curiousity. Shit, probably her hands were trembling again. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to kill him, she truly did, but it was just that the entire world was _wrong_. The birdsong was gone, the leaves were grey, and there were terrible and terrifying beasts underfoot that preceded the existence of men.

     She cut the ropes binding her brother away, and helped him to his feet with a hand that he took to her surprise. Then, she handed the dagger over to her brother, and this time, Arthur was the one surprised.

     “I rather not risk releasing one of your men and they immediately kill me when I’m one of the people that could help fix this.” she explained haughtily, hoping that her brother wouldn’t dwell on the fact that in the worst possible circumstances and pushed into a corner, she would trust him.

     He nodded, the slight hint of surprise in his eyes before he turned back to his men. Morgana refused to sigh, it would only add to his amusement. The rest of his Knights stood up from the circle of their cut rope bounds, and walked toward their King. Morgana tensed as their attention fell on her, and she knew that they were also seeing Merlin’s very dead body behind her.

     “May I have my dagger back?” she asked innocently.

     All the better to stab Arthur in the back later when the world was preferably not ending and Camelot wouldn’t be a pile of ash before she even became Queen. 

     “No.” Arthur said simply. 

     “It’s _my_ dagger, Arthur.” Morgana fumed.

     “It was mine first,” Arthur retorted sharply, “I _gave_ it to you, Morgana!”

     Morgana humphed, and crossed her arms in indignation. 

     “Enough with the sibling scrabbles.” Gwaine snapped, “Merlin or Emrys or I don’t care whatever his bloody name is! It could King of the Farting Unicorns for all I know, but the point remains is that my bloody _friend_ is dead! Murdered by your psycho sister over here!”

     “Gwaine is right.” Elyan said coldly, “Why shouldn’t we murder her right here and right now?”

     “I didn’t know you would care so much.” Morgana taunted, “I thought I would have to argue and bargain with you guys, especially Arthur, to help him. He does have magic after all, and it was only fair that he was murdered by his own kind than a Pendragon. Much kinder that way, you see?” 

     The Knights made to speak again but Morgana interrupted them immediately, this time her tone was darker and more bitter.

     “And in the end, your prejudice and blind hate of magic would triumph. And I would drag Merlin’s cold dead body all the way to the other side of Albion because friends don’t help you when it matters.” Morgana kicked at the dirt, hoping it was Merlin’s body instead, “And if he bumps his head on every rock and trunk that I find on the way, so much the better.”

     “I would never abandon him!” Lancelot said hotly, and was held back by the other Round Table Knights.

     “Let’s just….” Arthur said quietly, voice devoid of all emotion “Think about this rationally. Magic or no magic in all of the lands?” 

     Everyone whirled around to look at Arthur with the same incredulous and the utmost disappointed face at the King. 

     “You’re being pretty stupid right now, princess, even for you.” Gwaine said harshly, “That’s the same bloody question of deciding between Merlin and no Merlin. That’s how stupid you sound!” 

     “You shouldn’t talk to your sovereign in that manner!” Leon growled, despite silently agreeing with the drunkard.

     Another explosion rang in the distance, a bit too close for comfort, interrupted their arguing. Right, end of the world as everyone knows it. Morgana would have to swallow her pride and go on a quest with Arthur again, for the first time in _years_. The manacles would have to opened again with help, help they currently didn’t have. She had no idea of what manner of beasts they would encounter on their journey, and magic was gone from everyone and everything. Their chances of surviving was slim to none, but they had no other choice. Not if they wanted to arrive back to Camelot, with their home whole and safe. 

     “So where were you planning to drag him to, Morgana?” Arthur asked as he stared at the unsettling storm clouds that spanned the sky in all directions.

     Morgana turned to him, and she knew that there was only one place that could possibly still have magic left, since it did not completely reside in the realm of men.

     “The Lake of Avalon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the MSOW chapter is being a whiny little thing, I'm sorry!!!!
> 
> so like finals is just around the corner and I'm getting beat up and sucker punched so much that I'm putting all of my works on hiatus until winter break
> 
> SCHOOL MAN
> 
> so how do you like this twoshot so far?
> 
> I've always liked things going like "oh no" in Merlin fanfic where people just frick things up because they VASTLY underestimated Emrys
> 
> mhm


	2. The Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Knights of the Round Table (and one witch) receive a warning from an undead dragon.
> 
> Arthur is forever irritated by how inconvenient Merlin dying has done to his day. 
> 
> Leon and Lancelot wished that they kept their mouths shut to the irritated king.

Sir Elyan was the first to be gone.

Arthur was drenched in blood and gore, and the rest of his company similarly so. They hadn’t noticed his disappearance at first, since they were staring Death in the face. Literally. The carcass of a hellhound laid nearby, and Morgana had yet to drop the jawbone in her pale hands. They lost track of Merlin’s body, and that was the reason why they stood bravely there despite Death’s presence. If they wanted to set the world right again, they would have to get Merlin’s body back in their care.

However, it’s time to go back to the beginning of their quest. Not at the middle. So, it was only after Morgana’s suggestion to go to the Lake, that they heard large wingbeats toward their location. Morgana tensed automatically, but then huffed in annoyance that she was essentially unarmed, and the rest just held up their swords in warning.

“Fools!” the Great Dragon roared as he landed in the clearing, “Where is the witch?”

Arthur paled and then turned beet red, “You’re supposed to be dead!”

The Great Dragon turned to gaze at Arthur’s angry face, and he peeled back his lips to show rows and rows of glinting teeth. The Knights flinched at the dragon’s grimace, as Morgana subtly angled herself behind them. The dragon was no doubt angry, and none of them seemed keen to anger it even more.

“Merlin is---was---a dragonlord, he commanded me to stop and never attack Camelot again.” The Great Dragon snorted in disgust, “I should’ve put more emphasis on killing the witch or even some self-preservation.”

“What!” Leon shouted in surprise, “But if he was a dragonlord, then why didn’t he stop you earlier?”

“That is a story for another time!” the Great Dragon hissed, “We have bigger matters to discuss.”

“Is it true, Kilgharrah?” Lancelot said bravely, “That the world is really ending?”

“Yes,” the dragon answered, “I assume that Merlin told you of my name?”

Lancelot nodded as the others all turned to stare at the knight, apparently not _everyone_ was in the dark about Merlin’s powers. Lancelot carefully avoided Arthur’s glares and Gwaine’s hurt expression. Lancelot knew that sheltering Merlin’s secret was treason in Arthur’s eyes, but he would do it all over again if it came down to it.

Kilgharrah shuffled in the clearing and stilled as he saw Merlin’s body. He gave a loud wail and dipped his head closer to the corpse. They all shifted uncomfortably as Kilgharrah mourned his kin, nudging the body with his nose as if to rouse the warlock awake. The dragon gave another pitiful moan and then collected himself as he turned to face the company.

“I cannot help you, my magic is growing weak.” Kilgharrah growled out, “However, I will give you a warning, for Merlin’s sake.”

“A warning?” Arthur asked as he finally lowered his sword, but still ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice.

“The world is tearing itself apart, and it has sent out a plea for the Old Gods to fix it. However, in Their eyes, gaining retribution for Merlin’s murderer and dragging his body themselves to Avalon where he will be laid to rest will. After that, the world will finally be gone and it will start over in some other realm. None of us will still be alive to witness that.”

“Are you saying that every beast in the world is trying to murder Morgana?” Gwaine asked as he gave a grin, “Let them!”

Kilgharrah roared, “The witch will die, but not by any hand other than Emrys! And she is not the only ones being sought after.”

“Us?” Percival spoke up, “But why?”

“You all are an intrinsic part of his destiny, and they believe it would be fitting that Emrys is buried along his friends. Especially Arthur Pendragon, his brother in all but blood.”

“So what? Merlin dies and we all die?” Arthur said angrily, “How is that fair?!”

“The world is ending, Pendragon. Fair or no fair, you’re gonna to die anyways, unless you want to stop it.”

“How?” Leon asked, with a little more respect than the others.

“You will encounter many magical creatures on your quest to the Lake of Avalon, and you must take a piece from each. Whatever you gather will be crucial in bringing back magic to the world, and your friend, Merlin.” the dragon dragged a claw over its scales, “Here, a dragon scale will especially be needed, do not lose it.”

Leon blinked at the golden scale that was dropped in front of them, he picked it up and tucked it into his pouch. He gave a respectful nod. Anything to bring Merlin back, even if it meant working with monsters.

“When you arrive at the Lake, give his body over to the Lady. She will know what to do.” Kilgharrah said vaguely, a tone of amusement in midst of his seriousness.

“Why would she?” Arthur snorted derisively, “Why would some girl by a lake resurrect a stranger? Are these so called keepsakes a form of payment to this girl?”

“It would do you well to be more respectful to someone who would save your foolish behinds.” KIlgharrah opened his wings in preparation for flight, “She is also Merlin’s wife.”

With that charming endnote, Kilgharrah flew off into the distance. The company wasn’t so sure where the dragon was going since the world’s days were numbered. Perhaps it was scouting for a final place of rest.

Arthur turned to face his company and dragged a hand down his face tiredly. The King sighed and kicked the grass petulantly and sheathed Excalibur into its scabbard. He stared at his expectant Knights and his sullen sister, ready for his command.

“It’s going to be one of those days isn’t it?” Arthur asked rhetorically as he marched toward west.

“Brother dear?” Morgana called.

“What?” Arthur snarked.

“The Lake of Avalon is the other way.”

“Of bloody course it is!” Arthur scowled, “Let’s go men! We’re going to meet Merlin’s wife, the one that he never told us about! Maybe we’ll find his lost son on the way, and whoops hello Merlin’s aunt! Maybe his brothers and sisters too, exact clones of the man, and they’ll all call me a prat! What other secrets does Merlin _bloody_ Emrys has?”

The Knights looked among themselves sheepishly as their King went on an angry tirade. There were a lot of pointed stares toward Lancelot and Leon, somehow the two of them were the best equipped to deal with an irritated King. Leon lost the silent battle of wills when Lancelot mouthed ‘be noble’ to him. Damn him.

“Sire?” Leon asked meekly.

“Yes, Sir Leon?” Arthur snapped, “Do you know anymore of Merlin’s secrets?”

Leon floundered, the poor man couldn’t help what he said next, “Yes.”

Arthur stopped and whipped around to stare at his most loyal Knight icily. Lancelot ran a suffering hand through his hair, the worst possible answer to that question possible. Perhaps Lancelot should’ve taken the plunge instead of throwing the loyal Knight under the stampede. Leon sweated under the King’s glare.

“What pray tell is this secret?” Arthur said icily.

“He borrowed a crossbow to kill you once.” Leon confessed.

Lancelot really _really_ should’ve taken the plunge.

Arthur’s face became thunderous.

“What.” he said enunciating each letter in obvious displeasure and Leon looked like he believed he would be struck down right there and then.

“Arthur.” Lancelot said and tried not to shake as the King’s gaze shifted to him, “Aren’t we forgetting something?”

“Gods! Finally someone said it!” Morgana shouted as she struggled with Merlin’s limp body against her, “You really are thick the bunch of you, or did chivalry leave the land along with Magic?”

The Knights, except for Lancelot, stared at her in confusion.

“You forgot Merlin’s bloody corpse!!” Morgana screeched, her archenemy was heavier than she thought, “I thought I was gonna drag him the whole bloody way without any help!”

Lancelot pushed through the Knights and helped her. He silently agreed with the witch, but he didn’t want to admit that he forgot too until just now. He winded an arm around his neck as Morgana took the other, with Merlin’s feet dragging between them.

“Well...uhm.” Arthur struggled and just huffed in defeat, “Percival, take her place, I don’t trust her with his body.”

Percival did as he was told and Morgana breathed a sigh of relief. Arthur gave a glare toward Leon that said ‘we’ll talk when the world is saved’ and the company was on their merry way. Ready to face head-on many monsters and beasts they would encounter on their quest to the Lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the wait!!!
> 
> this is literally all I had on my drafts since 6ever
> 
> so i was like "frick it, im gonna post it"
> 
> so here it is?
> 
> i know its SUPER short :C
> 
> more chapters coming.....................soon???????


	3. Love and Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana and Arthur talk to each other. It really is the end of the world. Arthur learns that some things don't change and so does Morgana. Once a prat, always a prat.

“Are we there yet?” Arthur asked with a whine, his feet aching from the long walk. The storm clouds had at least stopped having screaming faces a few hours ago. Now they just showed a sole menacing face that disappeared anytime someone tried to look at it directly. It was unsettling and he was sure it was mid-day by now if the sun was actually allowed to be seen. Also to make matters worse, all horses and other creatures were gone. So, hence his aching feet.

“No.” Morgana replied, “Another three leagues at least.”

A few minutes passed.

“Are we there yet?” Gwaine asked as he bit his fingernails in boredom as he walked.

“No, we are not.” Morgana said again.

Twenty minutes passed in silence.

“Are we there yet, Lady Morgana?” Leon asked in his perfect court voice.

“No, and flattery will get you nowhere, Leon.”

Five minutes ticked away.

“Are we there yet?” Elyan said as he absently counted every burnmark they came across (24 so far; 3 on trees, 5 on the ground, and 16 on bodies--mostly druids).

“No, another two leagues more.” Morgana glanced at him, “Watch where you step.”

Elyan rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, and it’s not like I’m going to trip.”

Leon grabbed Elyan by the bicep before he stepped into a large leaf pile, and with his sword, he parted the leaves to reveal a pit with stakes for anyone who fell into them.

“I knew that was there.” Elyan said as he looked at the smirking Morgana, “I was just testing Sir Leon here to see if _he_ knew.”

Elyan took his bicep out of Leon’s grip with a sharp tug, but did admittedly look where he stepped far more carefully. Leon sighed and kept close anyways.

“Are we there yet, fair lady?” Lancelot asked as he tugged Merlin’s body along, “It’s been awhile.”

Morgana whirled around to stare at Lancelot, “After all of this is over….You, me and a pair of hungry wolves and ask me that question again to my face.”

Lancelot laughed uneasily while Morgana just smirked and winked.

“Sister, can you _please_ stop threatening my men?” Arthur shoved at her shoulder, “Answer it honestly.”

Morgana shoved him back, “I lied, it was four leagues instead.”

The men groaned loudly.

Morgana flipped her hair and walked closer to her brother. She grabbed his bicep and leaned in close to whisper “I think it’s time for a break, we need a talk.”

Arthur looked back at his tired men and back at her, “What?”

“Alone.” Morgana added as she glanced around at the empty woods. It now occurred to Arthur that she looked awfully paranoid. Granted, she had no magic and no weapons but she usually one to look brave no matter what. Arthur took a long look into her cold green eyes and tried to remember what they conveyed. When they spoke one language as (unknown) siblings so long ago, when secrets did not exist. 

“All right, men.” Arthur stopped and sat heavily on a trunk, “Take a breather, we need to conserve our strength.”

Morgana’s grip on his bicep tightened like claws.

“And I will talk with my sister, Morgana.” Arthur finally stood up, “Alone.”

Gwaine hastily stood up as did the rest of his men, “Princess, that’s a bad idea. I think all of us agree.”

Morgana fumed, “You don’t---”

Arthur held up a hand, “What harm can Morgana do in her state? She has no magic and no weaponry. You all saw for yourselves that she is relatively harmless.”

Morgana’s pale face turned an angry red but she kept shut. It was best to keep mum about what she could do even as ‘harmless’. She could choke Arthur to death, brain him with a rock, or poke his eyes out. It was savage and intimate but it could do the job just fine. Besides, murder was on her minds for other reasons than Arthur’s demise sadly.

Gwaine’s narrowed his eyes but sat back down. As did the rest of his men. Lancelot and Percival busied themselves with setting Merlin’s body gently on the forest floor. Arthur felt his heart squeeze looking at Merlin’s still state. He looked away and turned to follow Morgana into the dark forest. He made a mental note to himself to fire his manservant when all of this was over. It seemed execution was out of question if he wished the world’s continued existence.

“What is it, Morgana?” he asked with a rub between his brows.

“Don’t you find it a bit…..odd?” Morgana said with another glance at the woods, “That we haven’t encountered any creatures yet.”

“I’ve noticed but I tend not to look a gift horse in the mouth.” Arthur said but did clutch Excalibur’s hilt all the same.

“Arthur, we _need_ to encounter them. How else are we are able to collect the ‘keepsakes’ that Merlin and the _world_ needs?” 

Arthur did a sad laugh and leaned against the nearest grey tree. He brought a hand up to his eyes and breathed through his nose several times. His laughs now hurt as he felt an iron band wrap around his chest. His mind immediately went to sorcery but magic no longer existed. His other hand came up to his eyes and dug his palms into his sockets. 

Magic didn’t exist anymore, so why did he feel so _horrible_ instead of happiness?

“Arthur, are you alright?” Morgana asked softly (it wasn’t kind, that Morgana was gone already), “You need to pull it together.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Arthur said.

“What?” she said as she reached out to put a palm on his shoulder.

He flinched away and slapped it away. Arthur’s hands fell down to his sides and Morgana saw his tears that he had been trying so hard to hold back. For the first time in years, Morgana felt at a loss what to do. Last time Arthur cried (ugly snot and all), it had been when he was seven and saw his first sorcerer execution.

“Stop that.” Arthur said, his voice straining with effort not to wobble.

“Stop what? I’m not even doing anything.”

“Stop _touching_ me,” Arthur voice’s cracked, “We’re not brother and sister. Merlin isn’t Emrys. All of this was a mistake. So stop pretending that you aren’t looking for the first opportunity to stab me in the back. We….”

Morgana’s grab for Arthur was so quick that he hadn’t even noticed until Morgana’s fingernails burned painful red marks into his palm. Arthur sighed in defeat as he stared up at the look of pure fury and malice. Her mask had finally fallen down. Arthur stared back into the thunderstorm behind her green eyes.

“We what?” she hissed, “Finish that sentence, dear _brother_.”

“I told you it was rich coming from you to _pull it together_.” Arthur snarled, “You _didn’t_ pull it together and you weren’t alright. If you only had told me you had magic. We loved each other, I know that was real. I would’ve understood. But _this?_ All this talk of _brother_ and other pleasantries, this isn’t love. It killed me to see you betray us, to betray _me._ Then, you went insane and it scared me every time I saw you. It’s became very clear that Love has left us several assassination attempts ago.”

Morgana wiped away Arthur’s tears with her free hand, “Listen to me very closely, Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur’s stomach slid further into despair, of course she wouldn’t change. Arthur nodded numbly as more tears fell silently. It only added to his shame and self-loathing. His father had told him enough times to never show weakness in front of his enemies.

“We are going to lure the Old Ones to us by cutting locks of Merlin’s hair. You and I will cooperate to mend this world back together again. I know if this is going to work, we have to trust each other. You, most of all. Arthur, there are no other former sorcerers with the training of a High Priestess such as me. So our bad blood will have to be mere water under the bridge.”

Morgana didn’t smirk like he expected, instead she kept her mouth a firm line.

“I pretend because that’s how we did things before. And I still pretend when we see each other on opposite sides of a battlefield. You wouldn’t like the real me, little brother…..” Morgana put a hand on his face, “You’ve always been a crybaby and it was never pretty. Now wipe away your tears and put on a brave face for Father.”

Both of them blinked in surprise.

“I mean your Knights, put on a brave face for your Knights. Who wants to see their King cry like a child.”

Arthur laughed and wiped his tears away, he understood what she said to him. Her cryptic talk hadn’t changed then. He still remembered how to decipher her seemingly cold and biting words into what she actually meant. He thought he had forgotten. Morgana hadn’t objected to anything he said and instead revealed a little of herself. Arthur was surprised that she had forgotten for a moment this wasn’t after a particularly bad lashing from Father to Arthur when he had done something wrong. 

In short, it wasn’t completely hopeless.

“Alright, I will stop being so miserable.” Arthur said shakily, “Now how does Merlin’s hair help us?”

Morgana’s eyes bore into him, “It’s a practice that has been considered disrespectful since the beginnings of the Old Religion to disturb the decreased. Don’t ask me about necromancy, that takes too much time to explain why it’s different. Now cutting his hair will anger them and we will have to be ready to face them.”

Arthur rubbed at the edge of his eyes with his free hand, “So we just take chop off bits from every monster we encounter? How will we know it’s enough?”

Morgana shrugged.

“You don’t know.” Arthur said flatly.

“Hey, _excuse_ me for not reading up on the end times.” she said, “How was I supposed to know this would happen! I just wanted a good old fashioned revenge killing.”

“Yeah.” 

“What?” Morgana blinked, “You agree?”

“Yeah! Of course,” Arthur sassed, “I full heartedly support you killing my friend, Merlin, for revenge.”

“Damn.”

“What did Merlin do to you anyways?” Arthur asked as he started walking back, “You said he was Emrys and he betrayed your _kind_.”

Morgana didn’t bother to let his hand go yet, “Where do I fucking start?”

“Morgana!’ Arthur said scandalized.

“Shut up, _Father._ ” Morgana stuck out her tongue as they walked through the forest hand in hand, “I’m not a Lady of the Court anymore, am I?”

Arthur grunted.

“Do I start with the poison, or the multiple assassination attempts, or the fact that he’s _destined to murder me_?” Morgana said bitterly, “He’s always foiled my assassination attempts against you, so that was annoying.”

Arthur looked at her from the corner of his eyes, “Right, _annoying_.”

“Oh lighten up.” Morgana said, “It wasn’t personal and it’s the end of the world!”

“It was completely personal.”

“Tomato or to-ma-toe.” Morgana waved it away.

Arthur rolled his eyes and started thinking on how he was going to cut Merlin’s hair. He absently went to the knife on his belt that he taken from Morgana. Arthur felt the ghost of the iron band around his chest earlier at the thought of the monsters coming soon and Morgana left defenseless. It would be cruel and against his honor to leave someone unarmed in a dangerous battle. Arthur saw ahead the break of the tree line into the clearing with his Knights and he knew he had to make up his mind about it now. Where his Knights wouldn’t have to see this.

Arthur tugged at Morgana’s hand, “Wait, Morgana. Just stop for a moment.”

Morgana turned around and raised an eyebrow curiously.

Arthur reached for Morgana’s knife on his belt with his free hand. Morgana’s shoulders immediately went still and her grip creaked on his hand until he felt several bones pop. He looked up into her green eyes and it felt staring into the eye of a storm. For a moment, Arthur believed she was a High Priestess again. Arthur unsheathed the knife and handed it over it slowly hilt first. 

The air rested heavily on his tongue with so much charged tension it almost made him sick. Arthur gulped and sweat beaded down his neck as he saw Morgana tracking the movement of his delicate jugular. He couldn’t help but flinch when Morgana made a movement. Morgana paused and instead redirected her free hand to rest on the back of his neck. Arthur felt a pressure and bowed his head in surrender to it. 

Arthur eyes rested on a single color drained freesia between them on the ground. The soft petals were torn by creatures and careless travelers and even uprooted in some parts. It was as grey as everything else but it was still alive (was it? He wasn’t sure). He rather die staring into his enemy’s face but a flower would be a lovely substitute really. Panic bubbled up in his stomach as he felt Morgana’s thin hand pull away from their hold.

_Don’t leave me._

_No, don’t think that. She is a sworn enemy and has committed both regicide and patricide at the same time. She’ll burn for that in Hell._

_It was me, was it not? It was my fault that she left._

_Morgana and Merlin will be thrown into the deepest circle of Hell for performing the arts of the Dark. I am the fool for trying to befriend such foul company._

_Mother died because of me. Morgana betrayed me because I didn’t pay attention. Father died protecting me. Merlin didn’t trust me with his secret because I didn’t listen._

_Magic is impure and unnatural as those that practice it._

Morgana’s cool forehead leaned against his feverish one. Arthur’s breath left him in a whoosh. Morgana’s hand on his neck no longer felt like a stone but instead a balm. Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he felt the blade of the knife held carefully between his fingers slide away. It paused for a moment before the knife completely left his hands. 

_I’m sorry._

Arthur felt the words get stuck in his throat like he swallowed sharp rocks. Morgana’s hand pulled away from his neck and then her forehead from his. Arthur opened his eyes and looked up. Morgana was already walking away in front of him towards the clearing. The sharp rocks scraped and cut his throat into ribbons but he couldn’t say it. Not now and not ever.

Arthur took a moment to reassure himself by patting Excalibur and started walking toward the clearing too. 

+++

Sir Elyan stared at the black tuft of hair in his hand. It was weird, holding a cut from the hair of your dead friend. He heard in some parts that it was common practice to remember the dead but he thought it was rather strange. Orders were orders, after all, so Sir Elyan tucked it into his belt. Arthur had said vaguely it would attract monsters because of it.

He wondered what Gwen was doing at this moment. His sword slid out of his scabbard as snarls and rustles came from the forest. His sister was probably helping the wounded at Camelot, she always had a good heart. A branch snapped. Wait, wasn’t Gwen a friend of Merlin’s too? The leather hilt creaked as he saw golden eyes in the darkness. His stomach curdled as he realized there was a very real chance Gwen was dead or soon to be. 

He saw a flash of teeth before he was tackled to the ground by sharp claws and lean black muscles. The Black Dog stared him down from his muzzle with eyes red as Hell. His sword was in between the beast’s teeth like a stick. Elyan’s jaw tensed as he forced himself to put his free hand on the other side of the sword. Blood dripped down his forearm as he forced his sword further into the Black Dog’s mouth.

The Black Dog whimpered and made to retreat but Sir Elyan’s knees bracketed it in place. Elyan blinked away the beast’s blood and slobber dripping on his face but he couldn’t wipe them away. Bitter iron and sickly sulfur thick on his tongue like the world’s worst meade.

_Gwen is already dead, isn’t she?_

Elyan screamed as he pushed the sword up with the full brunt of his body’s weight behind him. A loud yelp and a ripping sound that couldn’t be described without throwing up. Elyan’s knees finally relaxed as the Black Dog went limp between his legs. Elyan sat up and looked down at the mutilated body, and saw the lower half of the Black Dog’s jaw resting on his lap. Sir Elyan dropped the sword and hissed at the deep cut on his left hand.

He picked up the jaw and studied the sharp teeth with a blacksmith’s careful eye. Sir Elyan held it between his two hands and broke it in half. He smiled and wrapped the hinge-end of the jaw with a makeshift hilt from scrap leather he kept in his belt. Black Dog jawbone knives likely had magical properties. Right?

Merlin probably knew. Actually Merlin was his go-to person whenever a person asked for strange symbols on their weapons. Elyan knew Merlin knew more about magic than most (because of Gaius and adventures with Arthur, right?) and wouldn’t ask questions. Or worse, report him to Arthur. Elyan scowled, he should’ve known Merlin was a sorcerer, it was staring him in the face! 

Elyan stood up and waved his new knives around, “Got one down!”

The Knights cheered despite being midst of battle.

Sir Leon stabbed a harpy in between in her eyes with his dagger (his sword was pushed away). He panted and put his sword back into his hands.

Leon stared down at the body quizzically, “Lady Morgana?”

“Yes?” she said as she held a…..is that a tree? Or a man? Anyways, she held _it_ between her thighs and was currently trying to slice some of its bark very carefully.

“Does it matter what I take?” Sir Leon asked, “I’m stuck deciding between an eye or a pinky bone…”

“Why you asking me?” Morgana said absently.

She stuck out her tongue as she was thinly slicing some bark off of its cheekbone.

Leon made a face, “Uh, because you’re a witch and you know what bits need hacking or not? I mean, my lady.”

Morgana paused for a moment and looked up at him, “That’s racist.”

“Wha--”

“All witches are the same!” Morgana muttered, “Don’t even know the difference from a hedgewitch and a mage like his head from his own arse!” 

Leon kept his mouth shut on how he _didn’t_ know the difference. 

“So…..eye, then?” Leon said. 

Morgana looked up again, “What? No that’s disgusting. And messy. Who even does that? I mean even _I_ don’t do that. Well not myself personally.” she laughs. 

Leon could feel the life departing him like a leak from a boat. Leon sighs. He then holds his dagger and the bony pinky finger carefully as he sliced it from the rest of the hand. His mouth tugged at one end, a victory but a small one.

The battle was over and the Knights dusted themselves off. Elyan presented his Black Dog knives proudly. Leon held the pinky bone of a Harpy, disgusted. Morgana waved the bark of a Green Man. Arthur loped off a mangy ear of a Cat sith, who had transformed into a magnificent feline instead of its usual form of a tabby cat. Lancelot had a feather from the Fachen’s black mane, it was easy to defeat since it only had half a body. Percival had the tongue of a banshee, the same color as curdled milk both inside and out. Gwaine had the fangs from a Dearg Due, a vampire from not around these parts of Albion.

And Merlin was still dead against a tree.

“Well, that could have gone worse.” Arthur said as he tucked his keepsake away.

“A lot better, too.” Morgana said.

Arthur scowled, “The day I accept criticism from you is the day magic will be accepted into law.”

Morgana’s jaw ticked, “So, never.”

“Exactly.” Arthur smiled cheekily.

Leon and Gwaine move over to Merlin’s body to carry it for the long journey ahead. Sir Leon kept mum about what Arthur was implying but Gwaine wasn’t going to take it. Gwaine growled as he stood up with Merlin leaning heavily against him. Leon scrambled to help too and Merlin was between them.

“So, you’re not going to change the laws about magic?” Gwaine snarled, “Even after all of this is over?”

Arthur snorted, “Gwaine, don’t be stupid.”

Gwaine narrowed his eyes.

“Of course not,” Arthur said as he started walking, “Now come on, we have to save Albion.”

Lancelot stepped forward and laid a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, stopping the King in his tracks. His soft curls covered his eyes and his mouth turned down. The company had to stop themselves from gasping as they saw Lancelot’s hand shaking by his side.

“You’re going to keep persecuting sorcerers?” Lancelot said darkly, “I _know_ you haven’t encouraged any more raids but you haven’t stopped them either. No more Purges but still no peace. The Druids _want_ to believe that you are different from your father. But where’s the proof?”

Lancelot looked up at him, eyes bright, “Are you even going to accept Merlin?”

Arthur raised his eyebrows and then pushed them down in thought. An image of Merlin with flashing gold eyes flew through his mind. The King fell back as if he was slapped. He could accept his manservant using magic if it was to cheat on chores. That, he understood and knew Merlin would do. Not, not _Emrys._ A title that seemed to drip blood if Morgana’s eyes were any indication. 

Gwaine rolled his eyes, “Should’ve known all princesses were the same. They’re all airheads, the lot of them. Not a lick of sense in them other than what their father told them.”

Arthur pushed off Lancelot’s hold and went into Gwaine’s face, “You will be stripped of your knight’s honor when this is all over, _Sir_ Gwaine.”

“Good riddance.” Gwaine snorted.

Arthur turned around and poked a finger in Lancelot’s face, “And you too, Lancelot. I have to say I am the most disappointed it was you of all the Knights that kept secrets from me. It was your duty to your King to report Merlin’s _treasonous_ activities _._ ”

Arthur started to walk off again, “Lord help me if I learn that you participated in them too.”

Lancelot’s eyes started to burn at the corners out of shame. A small….well, big part of Lancelot still wanted desperately to be a Knight. The childish part of him wanted to scream at losing his Knighthood again. But he was a man now. Lancelot picked off a stray twig from Merlin’s dull locks as Leon and Gwaine walked by. Treason or not, Lancelot would rather die for Merlin than Arthur if it really came down to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i am 10000% writing this for fun
> 
> not seriously lmao
> 
> but i didn't mean to make things so angsty and sad
> 
> also i didn't mean to write that weird tension between arthur and morgana but maybe I've been having too many season 1 and season 2 feels lol
> 
> ....GODDAMMIT ARTHUR AND UR REPRESSION
> 
> so the next part is gonna have more angst and even Freya will show up....hm
> 
> so what do you guys think?????? :P


	4. Holding On and Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is still an insensitive prat but he makes some progress. Morgana tries not to smack him. The company faces some more monsters and they finally reach the Lake. How will Freya react? Will Merlin return back from the dead? Will Arthur finally see reason? (No). Who will live or who will die? The penultimate part to _Emrys Without Magic_ is here! Read on and find out what happens! 
> 
> Be sure to leave comments and kudos at the end!
> 
> Apologies, this took so long but its a lot longer than usual so I hope that makes up for it!

The company walked through the forest more on edge than ever. Morgana kept adjusting and re-adjusting her grip on the dagger that Arthur gave (re-gifted?) her. Gwaine still looked like he wanted to punch Arthur if he wasn’t dragging Merlin’s corpse along with Leon. It also helped that the senior knight whispered him reasons not to when Gwaine looked close to giving in. Lancelot walked at the back of the group, deep in thought, and lingered too long on the burn marks left by dead druids.

And Arthur, well, he walked like a King. He led the group, with Morgana close by to shout at him if he was going the wrong way, and looked at peace. Strange, very strange, considering the day’s events so far. Percival was a quiet man and he made these observations quietly because he was a quiet man. It was best to let silence do the talking. Percival was particularly worried for Lancelot, and also the King, if they fought it would be brutal and he doubted either would hold back. First it was Gwen, and then Merlin, and now…...he hoped he never got an answer what would be the final straw.

And that’s when the HellHound attacked.

The gigantic black dog swooped in from the treetops and tackled Gwaine and Leon to the ground, Merlin in between them still, and stared at the shellshocked group with flaming red eyes. The sheer force of the landing sent the company sprawling to the ground.

Arthur sweared until it sent Gwaine’s ears pink.

“You kiss Gwen with those filthy lips?” Gwaine snickered, “Mate, cause lemme tell--”

The hellhound turned slowly to stare at Gwaine down his long black snout and opened his large maw. Rows and rows of teeth glinted even in the low light of a cloudy day.

“Youuuuuu……”

_**ROAR** _

Leon and Gwaine’s bones rattled like tuning forks and they were frozen stock still. Neither of them wanted to wipe the drool off of their faces or even blink. The Hellhound’s tongue logged out and picked up Merlin by the back of his shirt and turned to leave.

"Drop him.” Arthur growled, “Or you will feel the full wrath of a Pendragon.”

“Pendragons.” Morgan added with a feral smile as she joined him, “We hardly take no for an answer, do we?”

Percival had to admit they looked eerily like twins in that moment, facing against the towering beast, their stances mirroring each other. And their grins, he never made the connection until now, but he was sure that it belonged to the Pendragons. He’s seen that mix of grim determination and sure confidence of winning but with acceptance of dying to achieve it before; in Morgana and Arthur over the years.

The hellhound narrowed his eyes and threw Merlin’s limp body into the bushes somewhere. And then rushed to meet Arthur and Morgana’s challenge head on.

 

+++

 

Elyan dangled from a tree, his hair singed and his sword stuck in the grass below. He heard the bone-rattling roars of the hellhound still going on somewhere behind him. Arthur’s shouting something about Camelot and Percival’s screaming his head off. Elyan groaned as he brought a hand to his aching head. Getting hit with a wayward paw in the head was one hell of a way to end up with a headache. He was actually surprised his head didn’t cave in from the sheer force of it. Damn it all.

His muscles screamed bloody murder as he tried to bend up to his tangled foot above him. The knight dangled a bit more and took several heaving breaths. He reached up again, come on come _on,_ and let out a victorious laugh as he took hold of the branch and pulled himself up. He leaned against the fat trunk as he untangled his foot from the vines entwined with the tree. He whistled quietly as he heard flesh tearing apart, quick glance told him it was the hellhound’s, and kept working at the thick vines with his black dog blades.

Arthur had landed on top of the hellhound by climbing a tree and promptly stabbed the hellhound’s spine over and over. His blonde hair and fair face speckled with black blood, his sword dripping with it, and all the while, Arthur grinned. The King is working through his anger, no matter how bloody or gruesome it was, Elyan thought quietly to himself. Leon and Lancelot were searching the bushes for Merlin’s corpse, but they frowned more and more by the minute, and they were even to the point of lifting rocks to look under.

Gwaine was shouting something up to Arthur, the King finally seemed to snap out of his bloodlust and wiped the black blood from his eyes the best he could. Elyan sensed something was happening but the damn bloody vine wouldn’t let him go and _help_! He tried his dagger but it just broke into pieces. The black dog jaw-blades didn’t break but they didn’t seem to do anything either.

Suddenly a blue orb hovered down from above, humming, and Elyan’s hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It flickered and crackled with lightning encased inside. Elyan didn’t see the vines smoldering away to black ash as he stared, hypnotized by the oddness of the blue orb.

_Hold me._

Elyan nodded quietly. He had a feeling it would lead him to Merlin. Isn’t that what Leon and Lancelot looking for? He could help them. Yes, he should hold the blue orb, it just wants to help.

_Yes, I just want to help. Hold me, Sir Elyan. And I shall lead you to your destination._

Elyan reached out a hand towards the blue orb and felt electricity dance all over his skin as he touched the blue flames. His hand sunk inside the orb like as if it was a liquid. Suddenly it grew brighter and brighter. And hotter.

 

+++

 

“You want me to do _what?!_ ” Arthur shouted as he held on by his sword stuck in the hellhound’s neck, “Are you bloody insane, Gwaine?!”

“I think it’s a great idea, myself.” Morgana said smiling, eying Arthur’s sword shimmering with black blood.

“Just hold the snout up and then me and Percival will just hold the jaw down.” Gwaine said cheerfully, “Don’t get your fingers in between the teeth, mate, alright?”

Arthur’s felt his face burn hot and fiery with anger as he went over Gwaine’s plan. He had a terrible feeling that Gwaine was helping him in the most agonizing and annoying way possible. He can’t still be mad about Arthur’s _rational_ line of logic that magic will still be forbidden in his kingdom. _I mean, look at this mess! This is completely magic’s fault for sticking its spindly fingers into everything, even into my own fri---manservant, to the point everything comes crashing down without it!_

Arthur tugged on his sword by the pommel but it remained stuck. He glowered at the growling beast below. Arthur stood up the best he could with the beast still writhing beneath, and grabbed his sword with firm hands and feet planted on either side of it. Then he tugged. But the sword remained firmly stuck. Come on, this should work dammit! Arthur could almost hear his muscles creaking and straining. Suddenly his sword slid out with a wet squelch and more black blood spurted out of the new wound. The beast whimpered and then tried its damnedest to throw the King off of him.

Arthur yelled in surprise and immediately tumbled back but clutched at the hellhound’s back, black fur tight between his fingers. Excalibur gleamed black like the darkest night on Yule with the sheen of the hellhound’s blood. Oh hang it all. Arthur grimaced and then climbed up the hellhound’s neck until his belly rested on top of its skull and hanged on by the sheer skin of the hellhound’s wet nose. Arthur scanned the clearing below and met Gwaine’s eyes. The knight winked and waved.

Arthur threw the sword down with such force that it shook for a good while in the grass. Arthur did as he was told and held on tight to the snout beneath and tugged upwards to the sky. Gwaine stayed true to his word. Gwaine and Percival jumped up and pulled down the hellhound’s jaw with their collective weight. The hellhound roared and snarled but Arthur could tell it was shaking as it knew it was vulnerable with a mouth held wide open forcibly.

There was a great slice of flesh and a blood curdling squeal that made Arthur squeeze his eyes shut. The hellhound wavered and then its legs finally gave out beneath it. Arthur jumped off before he could be crushed and landed with a roll onto the streaked grass. He was glad that the beast had finally seen sense and could no longer delay its injuries from multiple stab wounds in the spine and neck and finally having its jaw sliced off. He would have liked to stab it in the head or the heart but the skin was too thick there. It is what it is.

Excalibur whistled through the air as Morgana swung it around, her face glowing in a way he had not seen since she was a little girl.

“I believe that is mine, Morgana.” Arthur said as he crossed his arms, “Give it back.”

“I should get one myself.” Morgana said thoughtfully as she handed it over, “It’s a beautiful sword, and no doubt meant for great things.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “The man who made this sword was unmatched in skill in life and likely will be as well in death. He would’ve made the finest blacksmith in all of the kingdoms but he was a sorcerer. What a waste.”

Morgana paused and took a long look around and then looked back at him.

“Are you _serious,_ right now?” Morgana said in great incredulity, “Do you even remember his name? It may have been years but even I remember his name!”

Morgana stared at the clueless King, “He was the reason why I considered regicide for the first time.”

“What?”

“Oh, excuse me. You never knew that.” Morgana waved it away like it no big deal, “He would’ve become your father-in-law?”

Percival and Gwaine looked between the two siblings and backed away slowly. This was spiraling fast. They decided instead to help Leon and Lancelot look for Merlin’s body. Then it was deathly silent in the clearing for the two of them.

“He was Gwen’s father!” Morgana shouted out in frustration, “Tom! You and I knew him very well growing up. He was falsely accused and you killed him. I-I didn’t understand why back then. But I do now, because you don’t care who’s innocent, magic must be wiped out at all costs. I won’t allow myself to be erased like Tom, never written in the history books or given a grave, like I never lived at all. That isn’t true.”

“I WAS HERE!” Morgana shouted as an angry tear ran down her cheek, “I won’t be forgotten! I deserve to be noted. All of us do.”

“Morgana--”

“You don’t even understand, do you?” Morgana turned her back on him, body shaking with tension, “The Purge never ended. Sure, you don’t actively burn us at the stake anymore but that was just the pinnacle of it all. Villages still do and they do far worse things. You don’t even understand that the burnings wasn’t the true punishment. It was something to please the public and sate their bloodlust. The worst of it all, you’ve made us into pillars of sand meant to blow away when it's struck down. Never there at all.”

Morgana stared up at the grey sky, “So many of us that have survived the Purges have killed themselves because they have realized the futility of it all. A life not remembered is not one at all. You have deluded yourself into thinking you are doing us a favor by not burning us but you haven’t done anything to truly change things. I don’t understand what Emrys sees in you.”

Morgana glanced over her shoulder and said quietly, “To be ignorant of your sins is quite a feat. The greatest of them all is how you’ve turned the great Emrys, a god meant to last forever, into a pile of mud for your boots to step all over.”

She shook herself out of melancholy and seemed to move on, “Now where the bloody hell is Elyan? He should be shouting at you, not me.”

“I…..don’t know.” Arthur said, “I think he got thrown into a tree by the hellhound.”

Morgana made her way to the hellhound’s corpse and yanked a tooth out with a loud snap. She studied it. Found it to be worthy and wrapped the spindly roots hanging off of it around the end of the tooth. The soft flesh of the roots became the hilt of the primitive sword and Morgana swung it around with a smile. Arthur shuddered, he should’ve known Morgana would never stay harmless for long.

“My lord!” Leon shouted from the bushes.

The two of them swung around and ran over to the small crew of knights frantically combing through the foliage.

“What is it, Sir Leon?” Arthur said.

“Merlin’s body has disappeared.” Leon said grimly, “We looked all over the clearing and he’s simply not here.”

Suddenly a blue orb hovered down from the trees and silenced Arthur’s angry outburst before it even started. The Knights had paused in whatever they were doing and instead stared at the orb in shocked stillness. The very air seemed to vibrate with its quiet hum. It crackled with blue lightning and fire. Suddenly it let out a deep scream of such intense pain and torment that the Knights had clasped their hands over their ears and fell to their knees.

Arthur struggled to keep his eyes open as his ears became sticky with blood. It seemed to glow brighter and brighter until it was as if a star had fallen from the heavens in the forest. There was a quick black shadow he was unable to make out and then silence crashed onto everything and it was almost just as painful as the sudden noise. Arthur let his hands fall away from his ears and slumped forward to heave breaths into his body, still in heavy debate whether to fight or run.

He glanced upwards to see Morgana recovering heavily on her primitive sword, now dripping with red blood, and he was surprised to see her ears did not bleed but her eyes did. He glanced around and saw the strange blue orb laid charred and broken open like a egg on the grass. Something dripped crimson from inside.

“Elyan?” Arthur said shakily, more puzzled than ever, “I could have sworn that was Elyan screaming but I’ve met no man or beast that could scream that loud.”

Lancelot tried to stand up but fell back down with a cry. His legs were too weak then, good thing he was not the only one. Arthur crawled forward toward the orb and peaked over the cracked shell. At first he didn’t understand what he saw but then it suddenly clicked and Arthur had to throw up into the grass nearby. He retched until it was dry. His Knights were startled but none dared to approach it if it made the King lose whatever he had in his stomach.

“T-there’s Elyan’s hand inside.” Arthur said with a gag, “It’s still twitching and the flesh is burnt.”

The Knights took several moments to process and suddenly it broke out into anguished yells of frustration and some pounded onto the ground. Gwaine kicked a tree and then cursed with such bite and wrath that Arthur was tempted to tell him to shut up. Arthur instead grabbed the nearest branch and whacked a tree for good measure. A burst of pain and then he slew out profanities as well. Goddamn _trees_.

“It was a will-o-wisp.” Morgana said and the men quieted, “They guide lost souls away with their strange appearances of lights in the forest.”

“I’ve heard of will-o-wisps but I’ve never heard of this.” Gwaine said, “They just guide fools off of the path until they are so lost that they starve. They don’t actually hurt anyone nor do they devour souls. Most of them _are_ lost souls.”

“This isn’t the first of this has happened.” Morgana said grimly as the Knights stumbled to their feet using their swords or nearby branches for help, “The monsters that we fought before? More than half of them were going against their natural instincts in favor of killing us. Some were just neutral forest spirits.”

“Even more evidence that the world is subverted then?” Arthur scowled, “We still need to find Merlin.”

“Should it do that?” Lancelot said and everyone turned to the Knight who was pointing at the cracked orb. They looked down to see the orb now trembling minutely. Then the grey surface of the ball pulsed a faint blue and resealed itself back together. Elyan’s hand still inside and Arthur now regretting not fishing it out. Gwen would’ve liked something to bury. It didn’t hover like before but it rolled into the bush.

“Follow it!” Arthur shouted, suddenly having a funny feeling about this.

The company ran after it, thankfully for only a few minutes, until it rolled to a stop at a small stream. There it pulsed again bright blue and then darkened to a charred black instead of its earlier grey. There was a strange breeze in the still air of the apocalypse, and the will-o-wisp faded to small black flakes that floated down the stream. It was silent for a few moments after the beautiful display. Then something rustled from the bushes on the other side of the stream and parted the branches away to reveal a grey woman from hair to shoes.

“Ashes to ashes.” she said quietly, “Rather fitting I suppose.”

The party of Knights, King, and former High Priestess tensed, their weapons high.

“Who are you?” Arthur asked, “State your name, title, and intention!”

“Death, death, and fun.” she said, her wrinkles around her grey eyes deepened, carved from a lifetime of laughter, “It’s so strange to introduce myself since it's rare that I have to.”

Morgana gasped as she lowered her sword, “You’re the Lady on the Grey. But where is your stallion now, may I ask, my lady?”

“Roaming somewhere in Lot’s kingdom I imagine. The late king really should have maintained his cannons more often instead of spending money on conniving sorceresses. His Knights have had weapons shortage for the longest time and he was too proud to ask for help. However, I make no judgement of man, I accept them as they are for I am Death.”

“Where’s Merlin, bitch?” Gwaine snarled out.

There was a sudden scuffle and by the time Arthur turned to glare at Gwaine, he was struggling in Percival’s hold, their two swords fallen on the grass. Percival smiled widely at him as Gwaine’s feet kicked in the air and at his shins but to no avail. Arthur had never seen Gwaine look so _grumpy_. He turned back around and put a hand to his mouth to stop himself laughing at the _worst possible time ever._

“Will we have to fight you?” Lancelot asked as he raised his sword, “There is many monsters that we will have to face on this journey. Are you one of them?”

“There’s no need for that, dear.” the Lady smiled and then suddenly she kicked something and it rolled down the shore and into the stream.

Merlin’s corpse was muddy and scratched by bushes. The stream’s swift current soon took him off before someone could do anything. Lancelot ran off in a swash into the forest to catch up. Gwaine let out a loud expletive and Percival dropped him in surprise. The two men ran off after their friend. Leon sighed and rushed off to make sure his men wasn’t picked off by any monsters lying in wait. Morgana grumbled about her feet getting wet and followed the broken twigs that the frantic Knights had left in their wake.

Arthur turned to the Lady, confusion clouding his thoughts like a heavy fog, “Death intends to have fun?”

“Sometimes you are rather slow, King Arthur.” the Lady said amused, “Although no matter how a man paces his life, he reaches the end all the same.”

Arthur tried to maintain a kingly facade despite being on the knife’s edge of an existential crisis of epic proportions.

“I do advise that you take these.” the Lady said as she threw something across the gap, Arthur looked down and saw two black knives made out of a jawbone of some animal land at his feet with a thump, “Elyan has no more use for them now.”

Arthur bent down and tucked them into his belt, “Thank you, my Lady.”

“Freya won’t be pleased with you, I won’t doubt it.” the Lady started chuckling and turned around to walk back in the shadowy recesses of the forest, “She’s always got a good head on her shoulders, that one, I won’t be surprised if I have to clean up her work afterwards.”

And then she was gone.

Arthur shuddered as chills went up and down his spine. Death was different than he imagined. Well, he never dawdled on the afterlife before but perhaps he should start now. Kings are dropping like flies these days. His father had only lived around sixty years old after all. He himself is already thirty. Arthur hit his forehead. No! Stupid, focus on the task, remember restoring magic to the land to make sure the world doesn’t end. Right.

Arthur followed the trodden path of his men, ready to recover Merlin’s body, face his angry wife and save the world. As he walked, he spotted some grey flowers sprouting from the base of a grey tree. They might have been red once, but with all color washed out of the world, it was hard to tell. Never mind that. Very soon he will have to come face to face with a woman possibly mad with grief with the death of her lover. Arthur paused, then thought, _what the actual hell am I doing?_ He turned straight around and plucked some flowers until he held a small and pitiful bouquet in his hand.

“My condolences.” Arthur practiced to the empty air as he walked again, smiling wide enough for his teeth to show, “No, that sounds wrong.”

Arthur contorted his face again until he formed a more demure smile, “It wasn’t his fault, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“.....Oh she knows Merlin better than that. It’s completely and totally his fault.” Arthur scowled, “So, I’m sorry your husband is dead but can you resurrect him anyways?”

“Ugh, no.” Arthur said as he stared down at his flowers, “I’ve never met the woman in my life so I can’t be expected what sort of language she’s accustomed to. She might be a water spirit that Merlin seduced. Ha, _seduced_. She might be expecting flowery language, even _poetry,_ and Merlin is far better at it than I am.”

“He’s just…..girly like that.” Arthur said, “Ha, you only know what girls like because you are one yourself!”

Silence answered him.

Arthur sighed as he leaned in the smell the flowers, huh it smelled flowery, “You’re always blathering on about something or the other. But you never actually _speak._ And I suppose I never asked, either. Augh! Yesterday I wished more than anything that you would shut your mouth up for once. And now that I got it. I wish the opposite. You’re infuriating even in death.”

Arthur tucked the flowers into a pocket as something started to take shape in his mind. But there was no time for that now. The end was rapidly approaching, one way or the other, and Arthur was ready to face it. Head on.

 

+++

 

He parted a branch out of the way to reveal a small cove made by the stream. The air was punctured by heavy pants and the sloshing of water in boots. His Knights were flopped onto the muddy grass with Merlin lying by the shore, no longer in danger of being pulled away by the current. Morgana was sitting on a dry log and was trying to wipe the blood and muck away from her black dress, which made no discern in appearance as to before, honestly. Arthur sighed in relief quietly to himself, so not all was lost. Thank God.

“So, how close are we to the Lake of Avalon?” Arthur asked as he leaned against a tree, no need to get soggy himself, “Surely, we are much closer to it than before?”

Morgana looked around and sniffed the mud on her fingers for good measure, “Yes. Definitely much closer. I might even dare say we are nearly right on top of it.”

“But you said four leagues.” Lancelot said panting as he stared up at the sky, “Right?”

“Yes, but realistically we’ve only traveled at least a league and a half.” Morgana looked thoughtful for a moment, “Time and distance must be distorting itself in preparation for the End. We must not have much time left.”

His Knights shot up to their feet and Arthur at attention as well, “Grab Merlin and let’s keep moving. Which way to the Lake, Morgana?”

Morgana stood up and studied the grey trees around them and the stream to the right, “I think it’s straight ahead. Normally, I would know for certain with my magic but it seems about right.”

Arthur felt a muscle in his neck twinge, “That sounds very reassuring.”

Lancelot pulled one of Merlin’s limp arms around his shoulder and started to stand up. Huff and puff. Arthur watched the two of them for a moment. The other knights were already following Morgana ahead into the dark forest. Percival paused and turned around. Arthur waved him away, Percival frowned but acquiesced with a rustle into the forest, Arthur instead made his way to Lancelot. He wrapped Merlin’s other free arm around his shoulder and stood up. Surprised, Lancelot looked him up and down with an eyebrow raise. Merlin’s skin felt cold and stiff beneath his hold, startled at the iciness that his dead skin radiated, but Arthur took it into stride quickly.

“What?” Arthur said.

“N-Nothing, my lord.” Lancelot said as he turned his gaze ahead, “I met Freya once before.”

They started walking, slowly, with their precious cargo in between them.

“Really?” Arthur glanced at the unusually serious knight at the corner of his eye, “Did she sport tails or talons? No, I don’t expect a water spirit to sport talons. Her teeth must be sharp, though, but maybe not the case if she takes after fish.”

“None so.” Lancelot said, “She was beautiful.”

“Ah, a siren then.” Arthur said pleased, “She must have seduced him instead of the other way around. Wasn’t his fault, then, I’m sure there Gaius knows of some way to save him from her influence.”

Suddenly Arthur heard laughter. He whirled around looking for the source in the dark forest, was it an ambush by some beast? His gaze landed on Lancelot. Laughing bitterly as his shoulders shook and then quieted down after a few moments. Lancelot turned to stare at the King, his glare both icy and fiery at the same time, Arthur’s stomach squirmed.

“I met her while Merlin was recovering from the Dorocha by sleeping by a stream. I think this is the very same one. The stream was protected by the local water spirits. It was only because of their help that the both of us survived that night. I didn’t go to sleep right away even though Merlin did. My nerves were still on edge. She came out of the stream with nary a sound like a vision and laid by Merlin’s side holding his hand. The look on her face as she watched him…. It was her magic that healed him from near death.”

Arthur was left speechless, but Lancelot continued before he could interrupt.

“She told me that she was human once.” Lancelot said, “Merlin had saved her from a slaver but she had a curse marked on her soul. It claimed her before Merlin could do anything do about it. They were planning to run away together and leave all of their pain and suffering behind. I believe it was the only time Merlin ever would’ve sold you down the river for nothing more than a mere piece of bread in return.”

That stung. Oh yes it did. Arthur felt his heart drop like a stone.

“But with her death, he threw himself back into his duty. Unexpectedly she didn’t begrudge him for it, and instead supported him, even if his duties kept him from visiting her at her resting place at the Lake. _Someone_ has to make sure a certain prince is given his sausages.” Lancelot said with a glare, “She didn’t say but I could see it plain on her face that she loved him. Completely and wholeheartedly without question. I doubt that any earthly entities could separate them now, not even Death.”

“I hadn’t even considered that they loved each other.” Arthur admitted with shame, “It seems that I know Merlin less and less the more I learn about him.”

Lancelot mysteriously smiled at him. Arthur smiled too, unsure and small, but it felt like a step in the right direction. Lancelot parted the trees in front of them to reveal a sparkling lake with the company splashing in the still waters. Morgana kicked at it, sharp splashes going everywhere, as she shouted in frustration. Lancelot and Arthur looked at the strange scene and at each other, and the two of the shrugged. Both of them on the same page for once.

“WAKE UP LADY!” Gwaine shouted, “RISE AND SHINE, BABE, END OF THE WORLD AND ALL!”

“What the hell are you doing, Gwaine?” Arthur asked as they dragged Merlin closer to the shore, “Are you flirting with Merlin’s wife? He’s going to be pissed when he finds out.”

Morgana turned around at the sound his voice and brightened, “Bring Merlin to the water, I don’t think she believes that we have him, or otherwise she would’ve woken up.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow but did anyway. They carried him towards the water until it lapped at their hips. The company waited. The grey clouds above them grew darker until it fringed on stormy. But no lightning or rain was to be seen. The water came to life, it became choppy and frenzied, no longer still like a mirror. Then rain finally broke like an icy bucket and their hair were plastered to their foreheads in seconds. Arthur could hardly see since the rain was coming down so heavily but he held onto Merlin tightly and even winded an arm around his bony hips. Lancelot did the same.

Freya arose from the water, her hair floating around her as her eyes glowed pure white and her face twisted in a snarl as she rose an arm and pointed at Merlin’s raggedy corpse. Her red dress was torn and bloody like she had died in it, wait, did she? She floated down until her feet softly rested on the water, immediately turning still under her, and she slowly walked toward them. The water getting more wild and Arthur had to spit out lake water every second. Lightning split the sky and Arthur could see the shadow of large black wings spread out behind her and then it was gone again with a thunderclap. Once human, his ass.

“What have you done?” she said, her voice reverberating deep and long lingering in his bones that spoke of a power born long before his time, “What has happened to my Merlin?”

Suddenly her gaze moved from Arthur to Morgana and then suddenly she was held up by her neck, pale hands grasping at the wall of water, “Morgana Le Fay. I’ve heard much of you.”

Morgana choked out with a grimace, “If-if you kill me, you w-w-won’t know exactly what I did, now would you?”

The powerless witch was dropped into the churning waters with a loud smack and a gasping inhale and cough. Freya turned back to Arthur and then looked to her left to see Lancelot. The faintest shadow of smile crossed her face before it disappeared again. She finally looked again at the King and kneeled down to stroke a hand across Merlin’s clammy face, the storm lessened for several moments, and then transformed back into full force as she turned to look at Arthur.

“Explain.” she commanded, Kingship to be damned (he had a feeling why Merlin liked her), “Now.”

“Morgana killed him with magic-dampening cuffs. Now the world is ceasing to exist. And we need your help resurrecting him.” Arthur said and then without looking away, he dug his fingers into his pocket and presented the crushed bouquet of flowers to her, “Did I mention Merlin chose a very lovely looking woman to marry?”

Arthur gulped.

The Knights and Morgana all stared at him. Gwaine quietly mouthed to himself ‘What the hell?’. The Lady of the Lake looked between his much too big smile and the flowers in his grubby hands. Another flash of lightning and thunder revealed her wings spread across the sky again. Arthur wasn’t sure how he could keep smiling at this rate. Then suddenly the squall quieted down to a light drizzle and the grey flowers glowed with a faint crimson light before disappearing with a pop. The flowers reappeared as a red flower crown and landed into Arthur’s hair with a floof. He didn’t dare to take it off.

“Go to the shore, all of you.” Freya said wearily, her eyes dimming until they turned back to normal, “Lay Merlin flat on his back on top of freshly dug dirt beneath him. Lay your offerings to their respective body part.”

They sloshed back without a word. Freya followed them with soft slaps of her barefeet on the calm water. They quickly did as she said. Jawbones by Merlin’s jaw. The cheek slice of the tree spirit resting on his cheek. And so on and so forth. Leon put the dragon scale over his heart. Freya raised her hands and the water lapped onto the shore and kept going until they reached the edges of the forest and also ankle deep. When the wave pulled back, there was a watery circle with ancient runes and lines toward Merlin in the center.

“Morgana.” she said as the witch jumped, “Worry not. I will not kill you. _I_ respect the rules of destiny. However, if you _ever_ attempt to do this again.”

Morgana fell to her knees, her limbs twisting at odd angles as she screamed loud and guttural. The knights took a collective step back. Blood trickled out of her pale lips as her right arm made a sick crack at being twisted too far. Her scream made Arthur’s blood chill. Morgana’s head started to turn to look at Arthur but one look at her face, he knew it wasn’t her doing. He suddenly realized Morgana’s head was on the verge of twisting beyond its limit. Her eyes were nearly bulging of her sockets and tongue logging out of her slack mouth as she seemed to realize the same thing.

“Stop!” Arthur said, barely heard over her screams.

The Knights looked at him and he didn’t recognize them. Not at all. He felt icy tendrils lick at his spine as he stared back at his knights, lauded in all of the Kingdoms for their kindness and mercy. Arthur then knew things wouldn’t be quite the same with them after all of this.

“As the King, I’m telling you to stop!” Arthur said louder, bravely, his fists shaking at his sides, “You’ve made your point, Freya, now _stop_.”

Morgana was released and she crumbled to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. His sister trembled all over and curled into a ball. She softly wept into her tattered dress and pressed her face into it, the world too overwhelming after a very close brush with death. He wasn’t sure what manner of torture of Freya had inflicted on her but nothing good if it broke his stubborn sister despite all others failing in the past.

“Like I said; I won’t kill you.” Freya said to her, and then turned to regard them all, “Now all of you step back.”

They did.

Freya rose into the air again, water rising with her to lick at her feet, and then started to chant. Arthur felt power crackle across his skin and decided wisely to hide behind a tree to watch the ritual. The others had the same sense of preservation. Even Morgana had weakly crawled into the underbrush. The fresh dirt beneath Merlin suddenly sprouted with flowers of all colors ranging from passionate red to royal purple. Before long, the long green stems winded over Merlin’s body and their offerings until Arthur couldn’t see much of his old friend except a tuft of black grass between the petunias. Suddenly it occurred to the King that he could see the _colors_ of the plants. He quickly looked around but everything was still grey, including himself, except for the strange vegetation.

A dragon’s roar shook the air and flashes of Camelot burning and of children and women dead in the streets with their skins charred and peeled were in Arthur’s mind eye. He glanced at the sky but there was no dragon to be seen. Suddenly there was movement from the impromptu flower garden as Freya’s chanting became louder and more urgent, and Merlin sat up with a loud gasp. The flowers clung to him tightly as he clutched his head and roared again. It seemed more out of frustration and pain than anything by Arthur could discern. His friend looked around the clearing, Arthur hid behind the tree without thinking, and froze as he glimpsed Merlin’s eyes. They were completely covered in gold to the point he couldn’t even tell if he had pupils.

So this was Emrys, then.

Emrys rubbed at his jaws and winced. He opened them as he tried to pop his ears. Immediately Arthur could see the hellhound’s and black dog’s jawbones replaced for a human’s and the top part of his teeth were of a dragon’s. In a shimmer they faded to a normal human’s. His cheeks were faintly green and hard and then softened to soft human flesh instead of bark. He stretched his arms and his bones popped from disuse. His fingers for a moment were black claws but then were normal. Emrys licked at his chapped lips, pale white of a vampire then rosy pink and no longer forked. Arthur glimpsed more examples of their offerings being assimilated into Emrys’ form and he felt more lost than ever at what to do. Emrys seemed to finally spot Freya and brightened with a beam.

“What happened, Freya?” he asked and then his nose wrinkled, “Ugh, my mouth tastes like nightmares. I must have been out a bit longer than usual if I needed your help to come back from the dead, right?”

Freya launched herself at him in a hug, the lake following her, and Emrys wrapped his arms around her with a booming laugh. They were soaked with a splash but they didn’t care.

She beamed and kissed him with a loud _mwah_ and Emrys looked profoundly confused and then giggled as he dipped her into the flowers. She snickered in middle of their kisses and then hit his chest to sit up. Arthur felt his face burn and his ears felt positively hot as he watched them. He felt itchy and gross. Emrys plucked one and tucked it into her hair. He rubbed reverently at her cheek and she held his hand as they stared at one another, getting lost in each other’s eyes, and like nothing else matter at all. The King felt more and more uncomfortable by the moment.

“So, what’d I miss?” Emrys said cheekily and then groaned loudly as he looked at the sun peeking out from grey clouds, “It looks close to dinner time. Arthur is going to throw a goblet at me if I’m late with his food again. I swear to the gods, that man is going to get fat and then he’ll blame me even though I’ve been telling him all along. Another day of dying, and the prat doesn’t even notice.”

Emrys winked a golden eye at her, “He’ll have to cope, anytime with you is time well spent, no matter what he says.”

Freya gave him one last peck and said gently, “Merlin,” and then smacked his shoulder with a resounding thwack, “What were you _thinking_?!”

Emrys’ gold eyes dimmed in shock and then brightened hotly, “She practically _asked_ for it! You know I’m not one to turn down a dare!”

Freya rubbed her forehead and then walked back into the lake still rubbing at her head, “Don’t talk to me until you figure out an apology.”

Emrys aghast, “F-Freya! Beloved, you can’t be---”

“You can handle Arthur and his Knights yourself.” Freya said and then turned to wave at where Arthur was hiding and held in a surprised squawk, “You’re on your own, babe. I’m go and try to get the Old Gods to calm down because of the _reckless_ way you went out this time.”

She slid under the water’s surface and the lake went back to eerie stillness. There was a resounding boom and Arthur had to shut his eyes as everything went white and wind whistled by his ears and then died down. He blinked and his eyes burned with tears, unable to handle so many colors at once again. The world was no longer grey and the sun shone brightly with not a speck of clouds in the blue blue sky. Emrys sat with his knees crossed in a green field of flowers and his golden eyes lidded deep in thought.

Arthur finally stepped into view and Emrys turned to see him. Rose petals drifted on the light summery breeze between them. He tensed and his eyes shone like two suns trapped in a small vessel. His gaze lingered on Excalibur and then at Arthur, and the King never felt such like a pinned butterfly under its gaze. There was something primordial and predatory about the way Emrys regarded him. Like he could take on the King and _win_. Arthur slid out Excalibur out of its sheath and Emrys didn’t at all react like he expected. His shoulders slumped in resignation and bowed his head in acceptance. He might as well be a statue as Arthur approached him. It made a dull thud on the grass as the sword fell. Emrys’ head shot up in shock at the sound and saw Arthur sitting down across from him in the field of bright flowers. Unarmed and unfearful.

Soft music from out of nowhere began to play as Arthur felt the softness of the bright red flowers adorning his head. Emrys looked up at them and with a twirl of a finger, his own blue flower crown popped into existence and set down reverently onto his head. Now they were a pair, and on equal footing for the first time in nearly a decade.

“We need to talk, Emrys.” the Once and Future King said.

Golden eyes stared back at him but suddenly slid past him.

“Gwaine, I swear to the gods if you even _think_ about it. I’m gonna smack you so hard into next week.” Emrys suddenly said with a scowl. There was a scuffle from behind him and then the rustle of someone retreating and a sword being slid back into its sheath. Swear words were quietly carried by the breeze but then faded away.

“Like I was going to say…..” Golden eyes then suddenly flashed, “Lancelot.”

There was another scuffle and muffled expletives and not so quiet grumbles. There was the familiar shing of a sword being put away and loud footsteps retreating into the forest. Emrys closes his eyes and then breathed in and out and then opened his eyes again. There was a golden shimmer that extended around the field of flowers. Such a blatant show of magic made his skin crawl. He couldn’t see the world beyond the shield and instead it seemed like they were in a field of flowers that extended to the horizon and eternity.

“You have my full attention, my King.” Emrys said, his voice had switched to a more deep and primal one that reminded him of dragons strangely enough.

It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments please guys!!
> 
> im so sorry this took MONTHS but i finally wrote it!
> 
> next chapter probably feature some Talking (tm) and maybe, just maybe, Arthur will finally see reason!
> 
> wow amazing
> 
> and ooohhhh Emrys is back 
> 
> and Morgana hasn't revealed herself just yet hahahaha
> 
> and Freya is able to control water (and blood) and that's why she was able to do that to Morgana :P sorry if it got too gory, I'll leave a warning at the beginning if it bothers people sorry
> 
> im a firm believer that freya and merlin would be so scary together and that's why destiny had to separate them or otherwise it would be so much like cheating on the game that is fate 
> 
> lol
> 
> TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!! 
> 
> C:


	5. Apologize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'll give up and give in_   
>  _It's only a matter of time_   
>  _I'll let you encase me_   
>  _And maybe there's nothing to hide_

            “Again, I must repeat,” Arthur said, “You have a _very_ lovely wife. She’d keep you in line and well, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows.

 

            Merlin rubbed his temple, “Consort. How many times do I have to say this? _Consort_. Consort! This the third time I’ve had to repeat this in five minutes. Con-sort!”

 

            “Ya know what?” Merlin waved his hands, “Forget it, my _liege_. Where did we leave off?”

 

            Arthur hummed thoughtfully, “Yes that’s right. The Dragon.” he pointed a fudgy finger at him, “ _You_ kept saying ‘what dragon’ like a blathering idiot!”

 

            “...What dragon?” Merlin said innocently.

 

            “Merlin,” Arthur hissed, “Are you intentionally _not_ clarifying something?” Merlin sweated as he looked away, “Cause if you are, then I swear I will march you to a shed six leagues back just to throw you out it's goddamn window.”

 

            Merlin said something very quietly.

 

            “What was that?”

 

            “Sheds don’t have windows, sire.”

 

            Arthur heaved like a bull ready to charge as his face turned red.

 

            “Fine,” Merlin rolled his shoulders as he finally clarified, “Which dragon?”

 

            Arthur blanched. He immediately stood up and raised a hand to stop Merlin’s question. The king marched off into the fields of flowers until he came to a stop some distance away. Merlin could hear how loud his old friend was trying to breathe in and out. He flinched when Arthur finally shouted to the sky, guttural and red with frustration, then walked back with a cheery smile on his face. Merlin suddenly was very aware of Excalibur laying a few feet away again. Err, this talk wasn’t going very well, was it?

 

            Arthur sat down a little closer to Merlin this time with that same cheery smile, “Can you run that by me again? I hope you are _not_ referencing a certain dragon egg that died horribly and violently crushed by large falling stones of its own tower of misfortune?”

 

            “Yep.” Merlin popped the ‘p’ and gave a cheeky grin.

 

            “Merlin,” Arthur looked at him aghast, “Why?”

 

            “So, you noticed that I required a dragon scale as one of the offers?” Merlin rubbed his heart absently, “Yeah, that’s because I’m a Dragonlord; Balinor was my father. And dragons are like our children? I could just _not_ leave my daughter to die! I even got to name her, Aithusa, she’s breathtaking, sire.”

 

            “Where do I start?” Arthur rubbed his temples, “You’re a man…right? How the bloody hell are you able to birth dragons, and it was an egg from thousands of years ago…And your father was Balinor, the one who betrayed my father and died at the most _inconvenient_ of times, and not to mention, _breathtaking?_ Really, Merlin, that isn’t funny.”

 

            Merlin stiffened, “ _Inconvenient_?” his fists creaked in his lap, “He was my father!”

 

            “You said you didn’t know your father!” Arthur shouted.

 

            “Yes!” A pause, “No!” Merlin growled, “I didn’t know about him when I told you. It was only _later_ that G---I was told about him literally the day before we left. I didn’t lie.”

           

            “About that one.” Arthur clarified as he looked away, “Merlin, you’ve been hiding so many things from me. I’m not sure if I can trust you. Especially not after what Morgana told me.”

 

            Something flickered past Merlin’s face, too quick for Arthur to catch at the corner of his eyes, but it reminded him of beasts that roamed at night;

           

            Then carefully, “What did Morgana say?”

 

            Arthur turned to back to him in surprise. He’s never heard Merlin speak like that. He’s always been loud and goofy and certainly no filter between his mouth and brain. Tch, more and more secrets. Arthur stared, but Merlin did not move or fidget, and only stared back at him with those unsettling eyes of his.

 

            Arthur coughed politely, “To put it simply; there is bad history between the two of you. Assassinations, foiled plans, the usual. For what or why, I don’t know.”

 

            Merlin breathed in and out, and then serenely said, “Then we won’t talk about it. It’s between me and Morgana and it doesn’t concern you.”

 

            Arthur sputtered, “What?” he stood up, “Do you think I am an idiot? Merlin, Emrys, or whatever the bloody hell you are, I thought you would be more honest. But you haven’t told me anything that I didn’t have to strangle out of you!” he didn’t yell or scream like before, but he paced, an insufferable tic that he knew Merlin didn’t like, “I’m _trying_ to understand. Have you ever thought what happens after this? After I know? Damn it, Merlin!!” he yanked on his own hair, “What am I supposed to do with you?”

 

            Arthur fell onto his knees as if his legs couldn’t carry him anymore with the weight of Merlin’s secrets. Arthur was no fool. Merlin could be housing hundreds of secrets between those goofy ears of his. Damned idiot! How many times did Merlin lie to his face? Was any of it real? Arthur felt hot tears pool underneath his eyes. His lips trembled with the effort to keep silent.

 

            Kings don’t cry.

 

            He covered his face in his hands. He could hear Merlin standing up as if to come closer and comfort him, but he didn’t approach. Not totally an idiot, then. He did not cry but he could feel the way his heart curdled in his chest that wasn’t totally true. His heart wept enough for them both.

 

            “Arthur,” Emrys said, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I only wanted to do what was best for you and protect you.”

 

            “You sound like my father.”

 

            He heard a sharp take of breath as if he’s been slapped. Served him right. Arthur let his hands fall to his lap but did not look up. He was supposed to decide the fate of a magical god, Emrys, but even now he could not think of him of any other than Merlin. His servant, his friend, and in hindsight an ill-advised sole confidant. Was it wishful thinking to believe Merlin kept Arthur’s secrets?

 

            “I’ve already told you about what really happened on our adventures. A few spells here and there to ensure victory. I’m using magic for good, for you, and I didn’t turn over to Morgana’s side.” Merlin squatted by him and Arthur looked into his stars for eyes. Merlin pointed a finger down at him with an unusual serious frown, “I will not talk about Morgana. Prophecies are not what you need right now, sire, but I need to know what you’re planning on to do with me. If…”

 

            Merlin’s gaze darts away for a second, “If you want me to die. I’ll find a way, I swear, I already have some ideas.” He glances at Excalibur, “You could kill me today.”

 

            Arthur stared for a few moments, “What are you going on about? Didn’t we just have an entire apocalypse explaining why that is a bad idea? Sir Elyan died, Merlin!” He ran a hand through his hair and said resigned, “I’m not going to kill you.”

 

            Merlin bit his lips, “If you c-can’t then I’m sure someone else can. I can do it myself if it’s easier on you. Funny enough, you do it enough times and it becomes old hat.” Here he smiled soft and kind, “It’s no trouble. No trouble at all.”

 

            “ _Merlin._ ” Arthur said, his voiced laced with steel, “You’re not going to die. Not today and not ever. This whole ‘ready to die at a moment’s notice’ schtick needs to stop.” He shook his head, “Never mind, that’s a conversation for another day. An excruciatingly long one.”

 

            Merlin blinked, “Another day? As in we will talk again in the future? You still want me?”

 

            “Want---” Arthur stopped in thought for a few moments then said, “Was that ever a question? However, we need to work on your trust issues, communication, secrecy, and…” Arthur gestured at Merlin from head to toe, “at your everything. It’s a mess.”

 

            “Excuse me, like you’re any better.” Merlin said, settling back into a sitting position, and looked at him in a way that made Arthur’s hairs stand on end. The same feeling that came whenever a beast prowled at the edge of his vision, “I believe I remember a certain prat who needed a new hole punched last week?”

 

            Arthur was about to retort that Merlin was trying to steer away from an _important_ conversation when he heard a rustle. Looks like re-establishing boundaries in their banter was tabled for now (could he still say prat?). There was nothing but the soft whistle of the flowers in the breeze. Arthur’s eyes and ears strained to see what was amiss.

 

            “Boys, boys,” Morgana’s voice drawled like soft silk, “I know you’re having a life-changing conversation right now, it would determine the fate of the kingdom forever, but Arthur would you mind scooting over for me?”

 

            There she was in her dark clad glory. It seems she had gotten over her earlier ordeal of almost being tortured to death. Arthur glanced over to Merlin to see he was on the verge to do…something, he didn’t want to say violent, but he didn’t know Merlin anymore. Anything could happen. Merlin looked to him, was he expecting Arthur to do something?

 

            Arthur stared back unflinching at Emrys as he scooted over, “Of course, Morgana, since you asked so nicely.”

 

            “Why thank you, dear brother.” Morgana replied in the same sickly-sweet voice as she sat, “How polite of you!”

 

            Arthur chortled, “How nice for a lady of your stature to grace us with your presence! Hark, Morgana Le Fay is here. Praise ye. She’s the fairest of them all. We’re always happy to see you.”

 

            Morgana’s laughter sounded like a dying cat, “Oh, Emrys! I didn’t see you there at all. It’s quite hard to see you for how often you hide in the shadows like an ugly rat.”

 

            Arthur grimaced as Merlin’s golden eyes glowed red hot. Morgana continued to laugh herself sick. He knew her enough to know if she was still a lady of the court, that was a sign that a noble lady was this close to grabbing Morgana by her prissy bun and smashing her head first into the table. Good times.

 

            Arthur thought he heard the distant sounds of an instrument squawking on the wind. It must be his imagination. Huh, when did the soft music from earlier stop playing? Where did it come from? Where did it go? Where did it come from cotton-eye joe?

 

            “Ignore that.” Arthur said with his hands up, “Merlin calm down. Morgana, is it really a good idea to insult him? I think this place isn’t allowing any of us at our best and most rational lines of thought. Something is in the air.”

 

            Merlin’s jaw clicked with effort, “What do you mean? Arthur, what kind of thoughts are you getting to make you say that?”

 

            Morgana rolled her eyes, “Something in the air; yeah it’s the magic. We are next to the Lake of Avalon. It isn’t a pond that you can visit next to the castle.”

 

            “Would be easier if it was,” Merlin muttered under his breath, “Arthur, are you all right?”

 

            Arthur contemplated for a second, “I hear things like music and instruments on the wind. Soft and faint but I swear I can hear it. Sometimes as if to set the mood. And the strangest thoughts come into my head and I know I’m upset but my heart feels…heightened.” He shook his head, “Forget it. It’s not important.”

 

            Merlin and Morgana exchanged glances, “Sire, that might be the Fay you’re hearing. We don’t hear them but it seems they want _you_ to hear them.”

 

            Arthur scowled, “To mock me, no doubt.”

 

            Merlin scoffed, “Almost every time I run into them, they want to kill you, and that’s no way to get into my good graces. Freya,” he coughs to cover up his slip of the tongue, “The Lady of the Lake tells me that she’s working on that.”

 

            “I’m not surprised that you don’t like a magical peoples fighting back against the symbol of their oppression. I suppose you rather they stay quiet?” Her smile was sharp, “If they get too loud then the Crown’s guard dog will take care of them. I do hear things. About you and that staff of yours.”

 

            A hot flush went up Merlin’s neck, “W-what?”

 

            Arthur looked between them and was reminded of the fact that years ago he was absolutely convinced Merlin was courting Morgana like a total idiot. The secret flowers, the glances, and more. Morgana raised a dark eyebrow while Merlin seemed to struggle to say something. Was it rubbish or something else?

 

            “I meant your staff that you stole from some unlucky fairies,” Morgana said, her green eyes gleamed like stones, “What else did you think?”

 

            Merlin glared daggers at her. It was no use now, all chances of love seemed to be gone, and even if their relationship was mended it would forever be a scar. There were some things that could never be forgiven. However, the look of red hot hatred was something he could never direct at Morgana. Perhaps a perpetual bleeding wound was the best they could hope for.

 

            Arthur coughed, “Like I said earlier, I’m glad that you’re both here; this makes my new plan much easier to announce.” He rested his head on his folded hands, “You’re fired, Merlin.”

 

            The reaction was instantaneous, Merlin’s face crumpled while Morgana’s brightened in sheer glee.

 

            “Your tenure as my man servant ends today. Your belongings must be packed up when we get back, including any of your magical artifacts, and the like.” Arthur sucked in a breath as he let the announcement settle. It was a hard decision but after everything it made the most sense.

 

            “I cannot abide having a magical servant while the laws as they are now.” Arthur straightened his spine, relaxing into his kingly stature, “It’s abhorrent and hypocritical of me,” he paused, “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

 

            Arthur looked at Merlin and restrained his instinct to flinch in surprise. His golden eyes that glowed like twin stars were gone. They were back to normal, blue eyes and all. And there were silent tears dripping down his cheeks but from how white his lips had gone from biting it; he was trying to hide it. Emrys wasn’t here anymore, just a man holding back agonized tears, and not a drop of magic visible.

 

            The illusion of the surrounding flower fields that stretched to eternity shimmered at the edges of it. The red flower crown that Arthur wore began to wilt, and the choking fragrance of them began to fade into a more real scent of grass and dirt. Reality was seeping back, in more ways than one.

 

            Merlin’s head shot up, his face shiny, and his blue eyes cold with defiance, “I’ll still protect you, Arthur, no matter what. You won’t see me but I’ll be there.” He clenched his hands until they creaked with the strained, “Same as I’ve always done. I understand why but I won’t let you die because of my mistakes. You’re my friend.”

 

            Morgana let out a giggle, high pitched in its mockery, “You won’t _let_ him die? Get off your high horse, you and I both know the exact time and place of his death. Prophecy and all.” Her smile dropped and her eyes darkened, “And it. Won’t. Change.”

 

            His shoulders started to shake, “I’m Emrys. Doesn’t that mean something?”

 

            Arthur felt this was rapidly getting out of control, “Wait, no Merlin, let me explain.”

 

            “Bring back Sir Elyan, then.” Morgana sneered “Master of Life and Death, oh don’t look at me like that. You’ve done it before; Morgause had put two and two together, she wasn’t an idiot about the old rites. Bring him back.”

 

            “Fine,” Merlin’s blue eyes glistened sharp and _intent_ , “If you insist.”

 

            He was a blur of motion as he tackled Morgana, she went down with a surprised cry, and Arthur fell back from the scuffle. This was total opposite of what he wanted. _Shit._ Merlin pinned her wrists down as the two of them spat curses at each other, the air wet with the smell of ash and crushed plants. The smell of magic. Merlin looked up at him, cuts slicing up his face and healing just as fast, then down at his sword.

 

            It slid out of its sheathe, but Arthur held it back by the hilt in time, Merlin growled dark and low. He snarled as one of Morgana’s curses sliced his palms open. The tint of copper grew in the air. Arthur swallowed, this was a fight between sorcerers, and there was old wisdom in not intervening in such bestial fights.

 

            But at this rate he was going to stand by and watch Morgana die and Merlin be the one to do it. The word _prophecy_ drifted back into his mind. He waved it away as he stood up and backed up a few steps from the struggle. His sword held high.

 

            “Stop.” Arthur said, “M-Merlin I said stop! Stop it r-right now!”

 

            The sound of drums thrummed in the distance. He wished for the love of fuck that they would shut up. They only swelled in temper like a beating heart from somewhere else. _Get out of my head,_ Arthur shook it as he tried to concentrate.

 

            “Stop it! Or I won’t hire you as my Court Warlock, you idiot!” Arthur shouted, the two of them came to a shocked silence. The drums faded to a constant murmur just at the edges of his hearing. Both looked at him in a mixture of confusion and lingering murderous fury, “Don’t kill her.”

 

            Merlin licked a strip of stray blood from his lips as he let her go and sat back. His eyes, often so open, were obscured by storm clouds. He never strayed from Arthur’s face as if to make sure he wouldn’t miss what he said next.

 

            Morgana coughed a strange green liquid and heaved until her breath came back. He still kept his sword drawn against the two sorcerers watching him with a gaze he could not decipher. They were only men, harder to die, but still men.

 

            “Morgana, I’m hiring you too,” Arthur said, slipping back into the mask of the King, “You will become the Court Witch. I expect the two of you to cooperate with me on transitioning my kingdom to more welcoming magical place.”

 

            His blue eyes blazed down on them, “But, if one or both of you are dead before this decade is out then I swear on my grave I will burn Camelot to the ground forever. No kings, no queens, and no _fucking_ prophecy.”

 

            Something screamed inside of Arthur at the thought of his kingdom becoming nothing more than cinders. But Morgana mentioned about people being reduced to pillars of sand, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to pay for his father’s (and his own’s) mistakes even at the cost of his crown. It would be poetic justice if Camelot was as ephemeral as the graves with no markers.

 

            Finally, a trace of fear laced through Merlin’s eyes, “Arthur, you can’t mean that. Camelot is your home, your people, you don’t want to throw that away.”

 

            Morgana stared, “I want to say let it all burn but no _queens_? Are you threatening to end the Pendragon line? Never thought you’d be the type.”

 

            “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve wanted to give everything up.” Arthur admitted as he thought of a time he would’ve done it in a heartbeat to be with Gwen, “And it’s no kingdom at all if I can’t even protect my people. The other kingdoms will find a way to manage an increase in population. There’s no point in saving my kingdom if I do it alone.”

 

            “Arthur,” Merlin said broken and with so much meaning crammed into one word, “Oh, _Arthur._ ”

 

            “I have no use for squabbling sorcerers that can’t see past murder and treachery as the only solutions. Killing each other is a counterintuitive move on your part if you wish to convince me that magic wants to be accepted back into Camelot.” Arthur said, “If you accept, then I expect a long discussion about this prophecy scam you two are going on about back home. You understand?”

 

            Morgana sneered, “How do I know you won’t let the lords and ladies of the Court to burn me at the first opportunity they get?”

 

            Merlin’s face fell as he considered the same.

 

            Arthur bit his lip, it was now or never, “Because it will be outlawed. No more hangings or purges to punish sorcery.”

 

            For the first time, the flowers were silent.

 

            “Magic isn’t illegal anymore, as of today,” Arthur said as he finally let his sword drop to the ground, “The people might not like it, but I plan a steady transition to a total magical tolerant kingdom over the course of ten years. Change is best made gradual.”

 

            A keen cry rang out and grew in volume as it warbled with emotion.

 

Merlin was weeping like a newborn infant much to Arthur’s embarrassment. His cries echoed through the flowers. How can such an emotionally honest man be one of the greatest liars he’s ever known? _More proof that the old laws were cruel if they can twist the kindest people into vengeful beasts; all along I thought it was magic that did that, but no, it was a mere unjust parchment of man._

 

            “Yeah that’s great, lovely speech, but are we going to ignore the fact that Merlin tried to kill me a minute ago?” Morgana said as she sneered at the snot coming out of Merlin’s nose, “And I thought Sir Elyan will be coming back? It’s been like a year.”

 

            Merlin swiped at his nose with his sleeve, much to the utter disgust of Arthur and Morgana. He wished he had tissues if he knew his manservant, _Court Warlock,_ was going to be this much of a girl. He ignored the fact that Morgana wasn’t crying a single drop but he could see hints of a smile on her face.

 

            Then with a resounding clap from Merlin, the flower fields shimmered away like a mirage, and they were back at the shore of the Lake of Avalon. Arthur stumbled but kept his balance. Morgana and Merlin stood up and wiped the grass stains off their clothing. The monarch looked around and saw his Knights sitting patiently at the forest’s edge.

 

            They all stood up as one as their faces lit up at his return. Gwaine’s eyes slid past Arthur to see Merlin and his joy shone through his face like the sun. He cackled as he ran at Merlin and pulled him into a headlock. Merlin sputtered until he was let go.

 

            “Blimey, did you make out with a cat or what?” Gwaine said as he touched the cuts on Merlin’s face with a sudden gentleness and concern, “Glad you’re alive, mate.”

 

            Merlin pulled Gwaine’s wrists away, “I’m fine, Gwaine. Are you okay? What happened while I was dead? All I know Elyan died.”

 

            “The world got fucked.” Gwaine said and grinned at Merlin’s ‘o’ of surprise.

 

            “Language, Gwaine,” Sir Leon admonished as the other knights came to hug Merlin one by one, “We missed you, Merlin, the King most of all.”

 

            Arthur rolled his eyes and ignored his reddening cheeks, “I think I’ve heard enough lies today but Leon’s tops the cake. Me? Missing _Merlin?_ Ha-ha.”

 

            Lancelot pulled Merlin into a fierce hug, “Don’t scare me like that ever again.”

 

            Merlin blinked away the last of his tears, “You make it sound like I was gone for a long time. Lancelot, are you okay?” He shook his head with a smile and said, “I’m alright, Merlin, now that you’re here.”

 

            Arthur turned to Morgana next to him as the two of them watched the touching scene, “Morgana…”

 

            “If you hug me, I swear to the gods I will stab you in the throat,” Morgan hissed, “Understand?”

 

            “That’s what I thought,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “Hugs aren’t a Pendragon thing.”

 

            Morgana raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing. The knights huddled around Merlin to congratulate him on the beauty of his wife, _consort,_ and welcome him back to the land of the living. Percival rubbed Merlin’s head, Gwaine told him of his daring adventures, and Lancelot hovered by Merlin’s side. They made it clear they all know about his magic now and accepted him anyways. Arthur felt like a right idiot as he saw Merlin beaming under their acceptance.

 

            “Oi, princess!” Gwaine said, “If you don’t mind, we’ll take Merlin a grand ol’ trip down south to uh, see the sights, and go on adventures!”

 

            The knights all made a murmur of agreement.

 

            Arthur frowned, “Whatever for?”

 

            “Gwaine, it’s fine.” Merlin started to say but was silenced by Percival’s hand on his shoulder.

 

            “Well it seems you can’t appreciate a good thing in front of you unless it bite you on the arse,” Gwaine said with an all-knowing smirk, “You might be into that, I don’t judge, but Merlin is one of your very best. And we won’t let him get imprisoned in your kingdom so we’ll take him out of your hair. Out of sight, out of mind.”

 

              “Gwaine, I’m not chaining him up under the castle in a dark cave for the next twenty years as an example, only then for him to escape by manipulating a young fool into freeing him and burn half of Camelot down in revenge,” Arthur said, “No really, I’m not doing that.”

 

             Merlin scoffed in offense, “I’m not Kilgharrah.”

 

            “No, but you’re his estranged nephew.” Arthur said with a pointed eyebrow raise but Merlin didn’t rise to the bait; he eyerolled instead as Arthur smiled, “I’m declaring magic legal in Camelot as of today.”

 

            The knights gasped and to his surprise, their eyes started to become suspiciously shiny. They didn’t cry outright, _thank God, I would rather the earth swallow me up whole._ However, Percival was dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief. Arthur looked away, _don’t cry too in front of your men._ Then the tearful moment left as soon it came and laughter broke out from Lancelot.

 

            He crashed into Merlin, hugging him tight until Merlin thumped Lancelot’s back begging for air, and they both laughed. It was loud in its relief and joy. He hasn’t seen Merlin smile so big until his eyes crinkled at the edges and cheeks flush from sheer delight in quite a while. Arthur’s brows drew together, _was it five years ago he last did that?_

 

            At least Merlin is happy now. That was what mattered in the end. Arthur couldn’t help but smile too as the knights cheered for Merlin. He was beaming under their headlocks and aggressive head rubbing. He may call knights a band of churlish idiots with a stick but he was one of them. Servant or not.

 

            Morgana turned to him and said in a soft voice, “What are you going to tell Gwen?”

 

            Arthur sucked in a breath and shuddered, “I don’t know. I’ll have to give Sir Elyan a knight’s funeral, in fact, there will be many knights’ funerals I’ll have to organize. I’m not entirely confidant that a serious event like this one has a happy ending. People died, Morgana, because of you.” He swallowed thickly, “And Merlin too. He was born with magic, a gift from the Gods, but the things he has done in my name. Just from what he’s told me.”

 

            Shadows obscured Arthur’s face, making his wrinkles more prominent in the setting sun over the lake, “If trust is broken, it will never work the same again. You and me, we will never be brother and sister again. But we can make something new. The same goes for Merlin and I; his advice will still be quite astute so at least that won’t change.”

 

            Arthur looked at Morgana with a smile, barely there at all, “Magic is real but there are no miracles. There is always a price; I learned that a long time ago.”

 

            Morgana made to say something, maybe another one of her biting sass, but she looked away. Arthur’s smile fell. Only so much progress can be made in a few stress filled days. The part that he hated the most about this entire thing was that he _knows_ Merlin and Morgana know that he has trust issues. Then they took advantage of it. Arthur wasn’t one for heartfelt confessions, and that was his own fault, but they used it too. They used him.

 

            It made him feel like his heart was a meal for the crows. Their long black beaks slipping between his ribs, further than any other bird could reach, and picking at its soft flesh. Now he could feel whatever clump of mass that was left beating in his chest. One day, there would only be scraps and rot.

 

            There were no miracles.

 

            “I still don’t understand what Emrys means or _is,_ ” Leon said as he tapped at his chin, “Neither of what little Gwaine and Lancelot have told us has cleared it up.”

 

            “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to ever live from what I’ve been told,” Merlin said unsure, “The most I’ve ever done so far is bend the rules a bit.”

 

            Morgana sauntered over to join the discussion, “Oh please, _bend the rules,_ you make it sound so trivial. You dueled a High Priestess and _won_. You also command the elements at your whim and the fabric of reality warps in your presence. It took me a long time to recognize it.”

 

            “You defeated several _hundred_ beasts since I’ve met you, and those are only the ones I know about,” Lancelot added in with a grin, “Not to mention Morgana herself again and _again_.”

 

            “Not only magical ones,” Gwaine winked tongue in cheek, “I recall strange occurrences of arrows never hitting their mark. Or goblets falling off tables. The number of times I’ve seen you foil assassination attempts when you think I’m not looking, and again, those are the times I’ve _seen_ you.”

 

            “That’s not very impressive,” Merlin said shaking his head in disagreement, “Any sorcerer can do that.”

 

            “No?” Morgana said as she came closer but was stopped by Percival’s large bulk of a body, “How about reversing irreversible curses? Bringing back people from the dead? And surviving torture that should kill any other man, sorcerer or not?”

 

            Merlin flinched. Hard. She down right cackled at his glassy faraway look, off in la-la land, back at her little hut. Leon was the first to react; he had experience in handling these type of reactions in his men, and was quick to summon Merlin back the present. Morgana blew a kiss to his closed off face. His eyes widened and he stumbled back.

 

            Arthur pushed Morgana aside roughly, “We don’t do that here, Morgana, I will not tolerate any abuse among my Court.” His eyes shone with cold fury.

 

            Morgana rolled her eyes, “It is true, though; in hindsight it should’ve been obvious to me the reason why he survived against all odds. Only Emrys could die and come back no matter what I do.” She studied her cuticles in feigned boredom, “But like you said, there is always a price, his was never being quite the same after it.”

 

            “Morgana.” Arthur said.

 

            She scoffed, “Fine, I’ll try not to _abuse_ Emrys anymore. However, there’s only so many niceties you can say when talking to your prophesized murderer before a little bitterness spills out. One day he’ll kill me, Arthur, that’s a fact.”

 

            Arthur blew out a sigh, “Again, we’ll need to talk about these prophecies the two of you are sprouting out and what to do about them later.”

 

            “We can’t change them, Arthur,” Morgana said in a tone that dripped with bitterness, “There are no miracles.”

 

            Merlin stiffened, “Is that a challenge? I think it’s time I demonstrate a miracle of Emrys. Not everyone here has seen what I can do.”

 

            Morgana rolled her eyes which only riled Merlin up more.

 

            Arthur looked up to sky with a suffering sigh, “I think we got a good handle on what you can do the past few days.”

 

            “No,” Merlin snickered as if he stole Arthur’s sausages again, “I mean a real miracle and not an apocalypse. The Grey Lady isn’t going to like it but she can suck my entire---”

 

            “Merlin,” Arthur said as he rubbed his temple, “Don’t antagonize Death, I think I’m on her short list, so please continue on your idiotic tangent instead.”

 

            Merlin beamed like a kid with a bag of candy, he was at the center of everyone’s attention, and he basked in it. Arthur raised an eyebrow, _go on_. He wondered if he was going to see stars twinkle in Merlin’s eye-sockets again; were they the same color of the setting sun now? Magic, speculator magic, was going to happen in front of him. The King of Camelot. Arthur breathed, magic wasn’t illegal anymore.

 

            “All magic must have a balance, some call it price,” Merlin glanced at Arthur, “And the apocalypse is no different. A death started it.”

 

            Merlin gestured for everyone to step back. They looked among themselves and remembered that Emrys or not, Merlin was still a clumsy fool. They stepped back several steps. Better safe than sorry.

 

            “A life must end it.” Merlin said as he curled over and heaved until sticky black substance hit the grass with a sick splat, “That is my dead magic, it choked to death under those cuffs, and normally my resurrection would be enough to balance the scales. And it does!”

 

            Merlin smirked as he levitated the mess into an orb above an open palm, “My death and my life. The scales are balanced. However, there is still some left over dead magic to take care of.”

 

            Morgana frowned, “It’s dead. It’s not magic anymore. Why do you think sorcerers suffered; it was because they died from the inside out.”

 

            “I’m alive, aren’t I?” Merlin said with a cheeky grin.

 

            Merlin did not whisper any incantations, Morgana scoffed at the show off, but the surface of the orb rippled. The orb started to convulse until it became a chaotic mass of inky blackness of no discernable shape. Merlin blinked and the shine of his gold eyes shimmered but it was gone in another blink. Arthur was right, they were the same shade as the setting sun. He smiled.

 

            The dead magic burst in golden sparks and settled into a calm orb of light. Merlin looked at it with smugness clear in his smile. Morgana gaped like a fish; she didn’t seem to expect it to work at all. Merlin held the hovering orb in the space between his two palms, its soft glow lit up Merlin’s features as the sky darkened to the soft bruise color of twilight.

 

            “A death was taken in the wrong,” Merlin said low as if this was another story by the campfire, “Only a life given back in the right can correct it.”

 

            He looked up from the pure magic he held, his features ethereal and his voice strange, “Miracles are real because _I_ make it so.”

 

            Emrys snarled as he crushed it in a resounding clap. Soft golden light dripped from his hands like blood. Even some splattered onto his face, mixing with the red human blood from his cuts, and for a moment he looked like a beast.

 

            He turned away and walked toward the lake’s edge. He held his hands over the water and the remains of the orb dripped in. They slipped in without a splash to be heard. A few moments passed until Emrys shook his hands until more dripped in. Then he crouched down and whispered, low and indistinct, then he stood up and walked back as he wiped his pants of the magic.

 

            There was one last twinkle from the setting sun before it disappeared below the horizon. There were only the sounds of the crickets and the rustle of grass beneath an inky purple night. There was no moon tonight. It was hard to see Merlin and everyone else in the darkness.

 

            Then there was an undignified sputter and cough. Arthur’s eyes widened as he saw someone sitting up in the shallows shaking water from their ears. When did they get here? It was a man and he was struggling to stand up as if he just woke up from a long sleep. Merlin’s white teeth could be seen in the darkness from how big he was smiling.

 

            No. It can’t be. Arthur ran towards the figure with his knights close behind. _Sorry Freya,_ he thought to himself as he kicked up the water in his hurry. Sir Elyan blinked up at him beneath wet eyelashes, confusion clear even in the night. Kingship to be damned, he collapsed to his knees and hugged him tight to his chest.

 

            In moments he was crushed by the collective weight of his other knights. Arthur laughed in sharp relief. He didn’t believe in miracles, but he did believe in Merlin. Elyan laughed too, he didn’t seem to know what for, but he was happy.

 

            Morgana stood next to Merlin as they watched the happy reunion. She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and whispered, “What did you do?”

           

            Merlin rolled on the balls of his feet back and forth, “Power of threes and a heavy dose of stubbornness.” His grin was obvious from his voice even if she couldn’t see it.

 

            “Three?” Morgana said perplexed but then she understood, “You, your magic, and Sir Elyan all died and then resurrected through the power of ancient magic.” She tried not to sound impressed, “You cheated a little, haven’t you? Should Arthur expect Elyan to alight curtains in the middle of the night? You did give him a bit of your dead magic.”

 

            Merlin made to correct her but shook his head, “Elyan should be more aware of the magic around him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to ask me if a weapon is magical or not anymore.” He shrugged, “Who knows? A lot of my magic doesn’t quite follow what I want nor need. Elyan could one day wake up a horse.”

 

            “And you still took that risk?” Morgana said.

 

            “I didn’t want to break the news to Gwen,” Merlin said, a bit selfish of him Morgana thought, but crossed his arms, “Also Arthur and the knights are really happy that he’s back. I am too. Sir Elyan is a wise and kind man. Plus he’s great at distracting the Cook.”

 

            Morgana sighed. She wished she didn’t know exactly whom Merlin was talking about but she’s heard enough from Gwen about Merlin’s feud with the castle kitchens’ head cook. Morgana didn’t care to hear about such frivolous things when she had a sister to please. It was only now that it occurred to her that Merlin had built himself a support system. People that cared about him, magic or not, and would be upset if he died. She envied him.

 

            “Ten years,” Morgana said, “Do you think you can handle that, Emrys?”

 

            Merlin’s blue eyes were hard to read in the night, “Ten years can go by fast. However I’ll consider it forfeit if Arthur is dead before the time’s up. So I don’t know what your ploy is with Mordred in the castle but I’m watching,” He took a calming breath and unclenched his fists, “I don’t know if we can be friends again. What you did to me…But if you aren’t going to kill Arthur, then we can start over, all right?”

 

            Morgana looked down at his outstretched hand and then back up; she reached for it slowly until she was sure there were no tricks, and shook it. His hand was firm and callus against her own soft skin of a lady. Her hand was dwarfed by his warm hold, she noticed to her surprise. Then, it was over as soon it had begun. Merlin and Morgana both wiped their hands roughly on their clothes. It was comforting in an odd way to know he was also repulsed by their newfound amicability.

 

            “This never happened.” Morgana said with a snarl.

 

            “I agree. Let’s never talk about it again.”

 

            Arthur and his knights came over from the shallows, “Merlin! Are you two gossiping like old spinsters? I’m not surprised considering your total lack of a love life.”

 

            Merlin stared at him, “You just spoke to my consort an hour ago. Lovely eyes, nice dress, and dead?”

 

            Arthur reddened, “Oh.”

 

            Merlin shook his head in disappointment. Arthur may have changed his total outlook on life, but he was still the same idiot he knew and loved. Another fact that wouldn’t change until the stars wink out. Merlin smiled as everyone turned to leave back into the forest and back to Camelot. All’s well that ends well. No one died and there was a new beginning on the horizon. Percival hovered close to Elyan and held him a bit too tight against his side. Lancelot was the same as Merlin felt his friend’s arm wind around his shoulder. Lancelot wasn’t going to leave him alone for the next twenty years was he?

 

            “Wait,” Arthur said as they started to walk through the forest, “We lost our bloody horses! Merlin, do your magic thing, and take us back home. I am _not_ walking six leagues back because _you_ died like an idiot!”

 

            Merlin sighed and muttered a few incantations. When nothing happened, he started to sweat. He tried again but there was no use. Merlin was exhausted from being dead, his body bruised from whatever abuse it suffered while he was gone, and he just performed a nigh impossible miracle. His magic screamed for rest.

 

            “Why don’t you ask Morgana?” Merlin said, covering up his panic, and raised an eyebrow in challenge, “Be more equal opportunity, Arthur, and she’s your Court Witch too. Isn’t that right?”

 

            Morgana smirked over Arthur and his knights’ loud protests, she ignored them for the sake of opportunity, “Don’t mind if I do!”

 

            Gwaine swore as they disappeared in a whirlwind. The sounds of the lake’s waves crashing against the shore was all that was left. The summer night chittered as the grass whistled in the gentle breeze. The world was at peace. The fey that resided beneath the lake’s waves put their instruments away and laid back into slumber.

 

            Emrys went on to be most famous Court Warlock in history. Together with Morgana Le Fay, the Court Witch, Camelot gained new life. Druids were able to sell their wares in the market squares and charm children with dazzling display. King Arthur was able to contact and draft up accords with the multiple people of magical influence Merlin’s met over the years. If they were still alive that is. Alator was quite happy to meet Emrys under more formal circumstances and no longer had to worry about Morgana killing him in his sleep.

 

            There was still trouble but, often they came from envious kings and queens instead of petty sorcerers. Camelot was unmatched in their respect and housing for sorcerers in all of the kingdoms. The peasants were well cared for regardless of their origin. Morgana was the one to suggest a separate council for magical matters of more difficult origins. Between a group of powerful and wise magical users in Albion, any problem that arose didn’t challenge them for long.

 

            Mordred watched Emrys close the curtains. Emrys’ dark curls were starting to grey at the roots. Mordred himself had been rewarded several more honors in his name in the past ten years. His sword was no longer shiny as the day Arthur gave it to him. Mordred was a Knight of Camelot renowned in all of the kingdoms.

 

Mordred found it odd that Emrys had asked to talk to him in private. Mordred was obliged to let him into his chambers. Then Emrys cast several silencing spells and lit the candles on the table as he closed the curtains. Mordred sat down at his table. Emrys sat across from him with an unusual look on his face, it was serious, and Mordred couldn’t help but wonder what he did wrong.

 

“I need to talk to you.” Emrys said and hesitated, “It’s hard for me to say this but I hate you.”

 

Mordred blinked in surprise then hurt clawed at his heart, “I-I know. I always suspected it but why are you telling me this?”

 

            “I want to explain why.” Emrys said, “Specifically about your destiny. I made Morgana and the whole of the magical community swore up and down that they’ll never tell you. Kilgharrah was a real stubborn ass about it but blackmail fixed that. I’m not proud of it.”

 

            “You went through all that trouble for me?” Mordred said, he thought Emrys thought nothing more than a fly to swat for some unfathomable reason, “What’s so awful about my destiny, Emrys? Do I die? Or betray Arthur?”

 

            Emrys looked away and grimaced, “No. You’ve been Arthur’s most loyal knights for the past ten years. Also, you are quite stubborn about staying alive.”

 

            “Then---”

 

            “You kill him.” Emrys snarled, his blue eyes hard, then his shoulders slump, “Sorry. Arthur says I’m still bitter about that. He talked about self-fulfilling prophecies and he’s right. I wanted to apologize.” Emrys runs a hand through his hair, “I’m so scared about what you will do. You’re the Grey Lady just for Arthur Pendragon and he laughs and hugs you all the time and he _knows._ He knows and still loves you anyways.”

 

            Emrys gave a laugh, sharp and brittle, “I don’t have it in me to do that. Neither does Morgana to me. She still tries to make life hard as possible for me without killing me, you know?” Emrys crosses his arms as he sits back, “Arthur and his big heart.”

 

            “Why haven’t you tried to kill me?” Mordred said lost.

 

            “You’re stubborn about staying alive,” Emrys said with a smile, “And I think I figured out who kills you. However, you won’t die as long as Arthur stays alive.” He holds out a hand and says serious, “I’m sorry. I want to start over. How would you like to be my friend? Arthur has been pestering me about it for years but now I believe him that you’re good. Is that all right?”

 

            Mordred beamed, “I’ll be a better man, today. I’ll be good,” He stood up and shook his hand violently up and down, “I’m so happy that you approve of me, Emrys! Things are better now than they have ever been if you like me.”

 

            Emrys’ eyes twinkled with amusement, “A new age of prosperity for Albion indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW THAT TOOK FOREVER!!!
> 
> and yeah i added in some memes because i couldn't help myself shush
> 
> but like i was really struggling with an ending for a while and I managed to bring Elyan back!! The only thing that died in this fic was Arthur's ignorance!!! /cough/ and the magical creatures /COUGH/
> 
> I wanted to give Morgana a redemption arc from the very start and I wanted her to have some growth but she still keeps her sass and strength. however there is only so much she can grow in a short amount of time and even 10 years hasn't changed some of her bitterness (which is kinda deserved) and only after lots of talks into the night that she got better
> 
> Arthur isn't the greatest at feelings but great at being astute when people are actually HONEST to his face and Gwen probably helps a lot when it comes to Morgana. It also takes a while for everyone to get over the whole ~murder~ thing 
> 
> and well, Mordred has always been a self indulgent thing of mine, because gosh dang it why can't Merlin APOLOGIZE to Mordred??? And Merlin has been super skittish and nervous around Mordred despite Morgana's redemption and it takes him even longer to accept Mordred than Morgana. It got easier once he realized Mordred would get killed by Arthur cause it is the only fitting end since nothing else seems to work. *shakes fist at destiny*
> 
> Plot twist, Arthur and Mordred accidentally kill each other while on vacation at Camlann due to some very bad grapes that they picked. The end!!!! Merlin kills Morgana half by accident and half not when demonstrating a magic duel to students. Whoops. Historians just made their deaths 10000% more dramatic than it actually was and Merlin is forever grateful there is no cringe compilation or 'dumbest ways to die' documented on their adventures later on. But Merlin still got #roasted in this chapter tho, couldn't help myself
> 
> ANYWAYS!! I'm super happy you guys loved this fic so much!!!! I've been at college and finals are fast approaching and guys pray for me ;_; 
> 
> please leave kudos and comment if you liked the final chapter in Emrys Without Magic!!! love ya guys


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